The Door
by dot11
Summary: Fitz learns the Kree Stone that took Simmons is an ancient doorway that chooses to send people where they're most needed. Frustration builds as it refuses to change form, though Fitz believes it will take him to her, because the only place he needs to be is by her side. Where is she? Simmons tries to figure out her own situation and return in time to warn others of a hidden threat.
1. Somewhere Nice

**Previously on Agents of Shield:**

 _Best friends for years, Engineering Genius Fitz realizes he's developed feelings for Jemma Simmons, his Bio-Chem partner in science, after following her on adventures in the field with the Agents of Shield. He finally finds the courage to tell her how he feels when he realizes they're about to die, trapped at the bottom of the ocean. He sacrifices himself to keep her safe, and ends up with brain damage which causes him to have trouble stringing words together and doing tasks that came so easily before._

 _Jemma, confused about her friend's confession and her own feelings, decides to stay away from him for a few months to let him heal. When she returns from her undercover mission, she tries to repair the rift between them, but slowly begins to realize she may have feelings for her friend too. Right before he's sent off on another mission, she confesses there may be more than just friendship between them after all. When they have a moment alone, he decides to ask her to dinner. Of course nothing can be that simple, and something beyond their control is about to stand in their way yet again..._

* * *

"No, I don't. You keep rambling on and on and I still don't know what you mean." Simmons doesn't glance up from taking down notes about her findings of the Kree stone. Not that there's too much in her notes to begin with. There's just one thing that's been bugging her about it… If she could just -

"Dinner," Fitz tries again.

She sighs, doing her best not to be distracted by him. "Fast approaching, yes, and we'll eat it I'm sure."

"Yeah! No no no, but, uh… Me _and_ you," he says. She pauses, realizing she should really pay attention to what he's trying to say. "Maybe we could eat somewhere else. Y'know," he puts his hand on the door trying to act casual. "Somewhere… _nice_."

She looks up at him. Finally understanding, she slowly nods. "Oh..." she says. She smiles carefully. He smiles back. He suddenly fumbles and slips at the case he's leaning against.

Trying to recover, he taps it casually. "Good. Okay." She grins, watching him try to act cool. "Uh, well, you - you should come find me when you're finished here and w- then I'll start working on options to run by you… for that…" He turns and walks away before he makes it worse. He closes the door behind him, and she smiles to herself.

* * *

He stops outside the closed door and lets out a big breath. _He did it._ He grins. It could have been smoother, yes, but at least he took a step in the right direction. Hopefully she actually understood what he meant. She got it, right? This was a date? This was their chance to talk? _This restaurant needs to be really nice._

He goes to the lab and turns on the computer. He would normally ask Hunter for the best date spot, but he's busy with… Well, besides he'd tease Fitz mercilessly, and his nerves are already in pieces as it is. _Research_. Research will calm him down and give him something to do while he waits for Jemma to finish up.

Somewhere nice… somewhere nice… Expensive usually means nice, right? What can he afford? Expensive also means dressing up, and then Simmons could wear a fancy dress… but he doesn't want to make her uncomfortable. Does she even own a fancy dress? Plus then he'd have to dress up too, and… _Okay, let's not make this too expensive._

What food does she like? Italian? Everybody does Italian, but then is it special enough? Maybe she'd want to… Option one can be Italian where they can dress up, have some expensive spaghetti. You know, if she wants. It's her choice. Option two… Japanese? He'd have a hard time with the chopsticks, but she does like sushi. Or a club? Similar to the boiler room? They can recall their academy adventures there and how they used to be inseparable… There might be dancing… It wouldn't be his first choice. What about… a pub. A quiet pub with good beer on tap and a nice British menu where they can actually talk. But again, it's up to her. He checks the clock.

He hits print on the options he's found so she can sift through them herself. He'll just start sorting them for now. In order of what he thinks she'd like best. And niceness. What if she does want to go somewhere really nice and dresses up? She's already beautiful, but then she'd be with… _him_. He looks down at his cardigan. He can't wear this. He looks at the clock again. There's probably enough time to quickly change. Something nicer than this. Just in case. But still casual. Just in case.

He rushes back to the lab, brushing past Skye as he goes. He took far too long deciding what shirt to wear. She's probably already there looking for him and going through the pile of restaurants he printed, but he wants to explain his reasoning first so that she has a better idea of what he means. So he has a better idea of what she wants. He shouldn't have changed first. What if she decides to go change too and then he has to wait again? He's already finished everything that would keep him properly distracted, and he doesn't want to start tinkering with anything that would get his nice shirt all mussed.

She's not in the lab when he gets there. He breathes a sigh of relief and picks up the papers with the restaurant options. He flips through them and pulls a few out, tossing the rest in the trash. He checks the clock. It will probably be a late dinner if he has to wait for her to get ready, but that just means it will be even fancier still. Later does also mean fancier, right? He's glad he picked the nicer shirt. He should probably check on her to see if she needs help with anything. If she's much longer they'll miss the dinner altogether, and just have drinks. Lots of drinks. He's not sure he's quite prepared for that yet… though it honestly would be nice to see where a few drinks might take them… He'll just go hurry her along again.

He takes a deep breath before he knocks on the door. This isn't the time to second-guess himself. He knows how she can get, losing track of time on things just like he does. She must have found some interesting breakthrough. He pushes the door open. "I know I said you should come find me, but I've already got some options to…" He looks around, but the room is empty, "to run by you."

He walks all the way in and around the back of the big stone in the middle of the room. "Jemma?" He circles around it. "If you don't want dinner we can always just go for drinks?" he says quietly, hopefully, fairly sure she's not in the room. Coming back to the front, he notices her equipment and notes are still on the table. The door to the glass case is open. He stares at the big stone for a few moments. It stares back. His heart beats faster.

He walks quickly back to the door of the room. No need to jump to conclusions. He probably just missed her. He checks the lab again because it's the first place she'd go looking for him. She's not there. He goes to the garage just to check. Mac is there. Alone.

"Hey Fitz, I wanted to run something by you for the new bus…"

"No. I mean sorry. I can't now - has Simmons come by?"

Mac shakes his head. "I'm pretty sure she's buried herself in studying that rock all day… Everything okay?"

"Right. Yeah." Fitz turns and rushes back out.

 _Maybe she's in her room getting ready._ But it's empty too, no hint she's been in there at all. He runs down the halls now, racking his brain for where she would have gone, checking in random rooms as he goes. Nothing.

"Hey, where are you off to looking all spiffy?" Skye stops him before he can bob back out of the kitchen for the second time. She's smiling until she sees the look on his face.

"Simmons?" He asks.

"She's not here." Skye glances down at the papers he's holding, raising an eyebrow but not questioning them yet. "Are you looking for her for something?"

"I can't-" he turns. "She's not-" he turns back. "We're supposed to-" he can feel the sentences slip away from his tongue.

"Hey, deep breaths," Skye says moving carefully towards him. "She's probably still studying that freaky rock thing and lost track of time. Have you checked there?"

He turns away and grabs the back of his head, frustrated. "She's not. She's not there. She's not here. I can't- I can't find her."

"Oh," Skye says quietly. "Do you think… You don't think something happened, do you?"

Fitz paces on the spot, not wanting to answer the question. He turns to leave and keep looking, just as Mac steps in and blocks the door. "Hey, careful. Found Simmons yet?"

Fitz looks down impatiently, wanting to push past the big man.

Skye and Mac exchange glances.

Skye pastes a smile on her face and touches Fitz's arm. "Hey, why don't we just check the video logs? You know, for overkill. She's probably just trapped in the bathroom or something and no one can hear her."

"Yeah," Mac says. "I'll set up the system."

Fitz follows, holding his breath, not allowing himself to think. He grips the papers tightly.

Skye glances through the surveillance system. "Okay, so far nothing. She doesn't appear to be on the base at all. Would she have anywhere else to go?"

"She was in that room. With the Kree rock," Fitz says. He's pacing, trying not to look at the screens. Trying to keep his panic at bay.

"Okay, we'll check back and see where she went from there." Skye cues up the playback. They all watch as Fitz enters the room, and are silent as the awkward scene takes place on the small screen when he talks to her. He feels his face grow hot and looks away until he hears Mac take a sharp breath. "Oh hell! What-?"

"No, that can't be right," Skye says. "Let me play that again."

She rewinds. And again. Fitz stares at the screen. Simmons is smiling to herself. She puts the box down. She notices the door he accidentally opened. She goes to close it, and -

Fitz drops the papers and runs as fast as he can back to that room with that stone. He doesn't hear Mac and Skye try to stop him. He doesn't notice when he nearly runs over Hunter. He's only focused on that stone. He throws the door to the room open and runs towards it, calling her name. Right before he reaches the stone, he feels someone grab his arm, holding him back.

"Stop! Think about this!" It's Mac. And Hunter. They're both pulling him away from the stone before he can touch it.

"But she's in there! That-that _thing_!" He tries to break free. "Jemma!" They're too strong and hold him back, dragging him further into the room away from it.

"Lock that thing back up," Mac says. Fitz doesn't know who he's talking to, but he knows that the door can't close if they have any chance of getting to her.

"No!" He shouts. "Jemma!" He hears the door to the case shut and he stops, falling to the ground, trying to gain control of his panic. "Open it. We need to- Open it again." He stands, but Mac blocks his way forward, pushing him back.

"Fitz. Think about this. We don't know what that thing is, what it can do, if she's even still-" Fitz glares before Mac can finish the sentence. Skye hovers in the doorway to the room.

"I missed something big, didn't I?" Hunter says. Skye nods for him to come over and shows him the surveillance clip on the tablet she brought with her. Hunter watches, raising his eyebrows at Fitz in approval at first. He then swears and covers his mouth in shock. He looks back, seeing Fitz struggling and Mac blocking his path to the rock.

"Hey, I'm sure she's fine," Hunter offers. He looks back at Skye, bewildered. Fitz tries to move forward again.

"We don't know what it does," Mac holds his arms out, standing firmly in the way. "All we know is that this rock thing is dangerous-"

"- to Inhumans." Skye finishes from the doorway. "It's only dangerous to Inhumans."

Hunter looks from Skye to Fitz. "You don't think she's..?"

"No." Fitz shakes his head firmly. "At least I don't think so. I doubt it." He rubs his eyes, trying to think.

"There you go," Hunter tries a grin. "Nothing to worry about then. She's human so she's fine. It just, you know… ate her?"

There's a heavy silence in the room.

Fitz squares himself to face the rock. "I need to get in there."

"No," Mac says firmly. "Not until we know more."

"I'm not asking permission," Fitz stares at him hard, clenching his fist.

Skye takes a deep breath. "Let me check with Coulson first. He might know something." She takes a step into the room. "Just don't - don't do anything drastic yet. Mac is right. We have more questions about this thing than answers, and we don't know what it will do to you." Fitz shrugs, not taking his eyes off Mac. "...or what it will do to every other person on this base," Skye finishes slowly, making eye contact with Fitz. "Okay?"

He returns her look hard, but then softens and turns away quickly, taking a small step away from the rock. Fitz covers his face with his hands, realizing the truth to what they are saying. He looks hopelessly around the room.

"I- I won't open the case," he finally sighs. "Not until we hear what Coulson has to say." The tension in the room starts to relax. "But," he points at the equipment Simmons left behind, "I'm getting my own answers." Mac starts to say something, but Fitz talks over him. "Help or get out of the way," he spits out. "I'm not leaving."

Mac nods, frowning. Skye gives him a grim smile, "I'll be back with Coulson."

"We're here to help, mate," Hunter says. "Just tell us what to do."

Fitz nods. He slowly picks up the clip board of Simmons' notes. "We figure this out." He fixes his eyes on the stone. "We get her back."

* * *

Her eyes open carefully, but there's only darkness. Darkness and a heavy pressure surrounding her from all sides. Her stomach is in her throat like she's in free-fall, but she gets the feeling she's not moving. Just floating. She has no idea how long she's been like this. Hours, days, weeks?

A burst of light crackles through the space in front of her. It morphs between colours and shapes with blinding speed. Her very skin suddenly burns like it's on fire, like she's being turned inside out. Among other things she's hit by an incapacitating wave of nausea, unable to breathe, not sure which way is up or down. She can't tell how long this lasts, but it eventually begins to fade. She feels something like a hard surface beneath her and sinks down to her knees as the light recedes to darkness. She holds her head in her hands, not sure if she's shouting or sobbing. Probably both. Eventually she grows quiet. She tries to take a deep breath to calm herself and get her bearings, but the breath comes out shaky and shallow.

She hears something from far away and lifts her head towards the sound, scared. It's like someone is talking. More than one person maybe. She hears a name. Could it be hers? It's very muffled, but she feels like the voices are familiar. She tries to move closer but a soft light bleeds into the air in front of her, like a screen.

 _A young gangly girl with dark curls march across a stage, head held high. There's a cap on her head. She waves shyly to someone in the distance as a camera flashes._

 _Now the girl is rushing forward, cheeks flushed. "Mum, Dad! I got in! I'm going to America!"_

 _"I wish they'd give us more information about this. I'm sure I'd feel better if I even knew the name of the academy you were going to."_

 _"Mum, it's extremely exclusive! It's apparently some secret branch of the government. The world's top scientists instruct there, and think of what I can do with access to their resources alone!"_

 _"You know we're proud of you no matter what, Jem. Just be sure to call often."_

 _Now the girl is in goggles, alone, pouring something into a beaker, looking anxiously around her. There's a tap on her shoulder and she glares at the young man who nervously points without making eye contact._

 _"You know if you cut the hydroxide by half it will actually be more potent."_

 _Her eyes widen as she stops pouring, waits, and checks her notes. "That's brilliant," she smiles, turning to her partner. "How did you know to do that?"_

 _He grins quickly before looking away and shrugs. "I like experimenting sometimes."_

 _The young man looks back up. He's a little older now, and looks like he's in shock. "You did what?"_

 _"We're going into the field, Fitz! I submitted our names and we got snatched up almost instantly!" She jumps, holding his hand in excitement._

 _"Both of us? But - you didn't even check with me first!"_

 _"Of course both of us, don't be ridiculous! This is what we're always talking about, it's our chance to do something both practical and important."_

 _"You know there are actual aliens out there now, Jemma. Aliens. The kind from outer-space."_

 _"Exactly! Think of how much is out there that we haven't yet encountered. It's the most perfect opportunity for us to see the world, Fitz. We'd be fools to pass this one up!"_

 _"Maybe I don't want to see the world. Maybe I like it here in the lab," he crosses his arms grumpily._

 _"Oh, Fitz," she says, looking back at him with a twinkle in her eye. "Don't be so frightened all the time. Live a little!"_

 _He's suddenly behind glass, screaming her name desperately. She looks back with unspoken meaning, taking a deep breath, knowing that she has to do this for him, for the team. She meets his eyes and falls backwards out of the plane into a rush of wind._

 _Medical equipment flies around her and she tries her best to shield herself from it. He's falling with her. They hit the water with a crash. They've sunk to the bottom now and she peers out the small window, up at the blue glow surrounding them. She knows he's watching her, and she turns to face him, excited that their combined intellect has got them out of yet another tight fix. Only he's saying maybe it hasn't this time. Not both of them. His voice catches as he pleads with her to let him show her how much she means to him. In her terror she tries to memorize his face in the small amount of time they have left. His eyes close, and her heart stops. They won't open._

 _He's lying in a hospital bed now and she can't look away until he looks back. When he finally does, he doesn't recognize her at first. He looks around desperately, trying to form questions but can't find the words. She covers her mouth, helpless. She turns and runs, only to run straight into him. Now he recognizes her, but there's hurt there. There's anger._

 _"You left! I_ needed _help," he says. "Someone to talk through at least. And you left, what, because I'm useless?"_

 _She shakes her head, "that's not why I left-"_

 _"-No, let me finish," he holds up a hand to cut her off. "I've decided to leave the lab. I can't work with you anymore."_

 _"But why?"_

 _"You know why." He won't meet her eyes._

 _The heat of betrayal bubbles up stronger than she's ever felt it before, and she glares at him. "But you lied to me!"_

 _"Yeah, well now we're even," he spits back. "And can you blame me?" He turns away._

 _"N-no," she stammers, facing his back. Suddenly none of it matters anymore. "I just- It means a lot to me that we're friends again. And I-"_

 _She reaches out to grab his hand before he can walk away. He looks down at her touch and places his own hand on hers. He looks up and searches her eyes in a way that makes her heart skip so many beats._

 _"Dinner?"_

 _She smiles softly and opens her mouth to answer, but she can't find the words. He drops her hand._

 _She tries again. No sound comes out. She becomes suddenly panicked as she watches his heart break with her silence. He turns away, lost to her, and she can't call out to make him turn back. She tries to grab his hand again, but he's already out the door. She's falling backwards again and can't hold on to anything. Darkness swallows her._

"No!" she's finally able to sob.

Before she can even begin to recover, the film plays once more against the darkness. The young girl accepts her doctorate. Smiles at her cranky lab partner. Falls from the plane. Tries to reach out. Again. The scenes she now recognizes as memories surround her, moving in and out of focus. They linger on certain moments, bleeding into each other, twisting around until she's not simply watching them. She re-lives every breath of excitement, every gulp of fear, every glance, every touch, every heartbeat…


	2. Priority

**Previously on The Door:**

 _After Fitz tries to prepare for a first date with Jemma, he discovers that she was swallowed by the Kree artifact she was studying, and is no where to be found. Desperate to get her back, he is stopped from opening the case to the Kree Rock by Mac, Skye and Hunter until they can learn more about it._

 _Simmons, for her part, is terribly confused about where she is. It's dark and painful, and she is constantly bombarded by flashbacks of moments with Fitz that brought her to her current predicament._

* * *

Coulson stops in front of the door to the rock room before he opens it. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the scene he knows is on the other side. The same scene he's faced for the last few days. Unclipping the caution rope that's been fastened in front of the door as a warning to others, he turns the handle and walks in.

The stone is still in the center of the otherwise bare room, sitting innocently in its case. Mac is discussing something with one of the other scientists that made clearance into the room, flipping through papers. Fitz is alone, circling the case with a scanner, muttering quietly to himself. He's the first to notice Coulson enter the room. He looks up and makes eye contact, but doesn't stop what he's doing.

"Sir," Mac walks over to the director. "You're a bit early for the report today, but I'm afraid there's still not much new to tell you." He shuffles through the papers. "The rock's remained stable. Aside from one or two energy fluctuations within the first eight hours, this thing hasn't done much of anything." He tucks the papers under his arm. "It's difficult to get any readings that make much sense, but we're still trying to see whether or not there are any signs of… well," he clears his throat, "biological material within the rock." He looks over to Fitz. "We're hoping to get more information when it liquefies next, but we can't figure out what triggers that state. This thing's remained as solid as... well-"

"-Good," Coulson nods. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. We may have a lead from our contacts."

Fitz carefully moves out from behind the stone holding the scanner. "Sir?"

"There's nothing definite, but thanks to Lady Sif and some of Skye's inhuman friends, we've pieced together what can best be described as a myth. Nothing solid or scientific, just a theory."

"What is it?" Fitz moves forward, putting the scanner down and giving Coulson his full attention.

"There are rumors of an ancient magical stone that swallows those who it chooses. Sometimes they disappear. Sometimes they come back with fantastic stories… Those that return say that it took them where they could help. Where they were needed."  
Fitz stares at the stone and crosses his arms, considering.

Mac waits a beat and then shakes his head. "That's it? Sounds more like a fairy-tale than a theory."

"I'm afraid that's as much as we have for now," Coulson sighs. "Whatever this is, we do know that it's very, very old, and it-"

"So it's a door?" Fitz interrupts.

Coulson and Mac exchange a look. "That's one way of looking at it. Potentially."

"A door that takes people where they are needed," Fitz looks the stone up and down, formulating his thoughts. "Like through time? Space?"

"Your guess is as good as ours. If the rumors are accurate and this is some form of ancient transportation device," Coulson warns, "I'm afraid we have no real way of knowing where it might have taken Simmons. Or what it did to her in the process."

Coulson watches the engineer closely, but Fitz continues to look at the stone, maybe for a moment too long, then he turns and nods. "Right. You're right. There are many unknown variables."

Mac shifts his weight and waits for a bigger reaction. When none comes, he waves his hand in the air as if to snap his friend out of a daze. "Hey Fitz are you okay? You're taking this lack of information pretty well…"

"Hm? No. Well like you said it's more of a fairy-tale. It's not like we have any scientific evidence to back up the theory. No useful data. We don't have much of anything really. It just sits there, locked in its case."

"Fitz. I'm sorry. I know-" Coulson starts, but Fitz' eyes flash up. Coulson starts again. "I want you to know that this is a priority for the whole team too. We're all doing everything we can to help."

"Yeah, I know," Fitz shrugs.

"You also know that the new jet is a priority?"

"Sir-"

"Look, I understand. Simmons was - is - more than just a priority for you. So I've given you time to do what you have to. But," Coulson knows this needs to be said by someone, "at a certain point, if things carry on without any progress, I want you to be prepared to face some hard truths."

Fitz looks up hard. "With all due respect sir," he sets his jaw, "there's only one truth that I care about at the moment."

Coulson nods, recognizing the stubbornness taking hold. "Of course. But remember we're a team. With May away, Bobbi still healing and - well, this," he nods to the rock. "My point is we have limited resources, and you are one of the best resources we have. There's only so much time I can give you for this."

Fitz turns red in the face and his lips form a thin line. There's a lot he wants to say to that.

Mac shifts his weight and slaps the engineer on the back, trying to relieve the growing tension. "Hey, why don't we take a break, Fitz? You need a change of scenery. A good meal. I think Hunter has something cooking in the kitchen, why don't you come join us? It's not like this is going anywhere."

"Right. Yeah." Fitz' eyes shift back to the stone again. "You go on ahead, I'm just going to finish up here first."

"Fitz-" Coulson starts.

"I'll be there when I'm done."

Mac shakes his head. "Fine, Turbo," he sighs. "I'll bring something back so you don't starve."

Fitz waves him off and waits for them to turn and go. Coulson looks over his shoulder before leaving. He holds onto the handle of the door to the room, but decides not to close it.

* * *

Fitz stares at the rock. When he's sure he's alone, he steps forward and places a hand on the case, spreading his palm wide. He closes his eyes and beats his forehead against the glass once in frustration. It was him that did this. He'd been a clumsy fool. He'd been told not to, but how could he not blame himself? All he wanted was to finally talk with Simmons, and now... Where is she? It's been days. Is it stupid to cling to the hope that she's alright?

He takes a deep breath and opens his eyes. It's now or never. He's alone, and he's running out of options, running out of time. He prepares himself for a rush of molten energy to wash over him, and throws the doors of the case wide open.

Nothing happens.

He steps closer to it, cautiously, like he's waiting for a tiger to pounce. Still nothing.

"Well?" He says to it, "what are you waiting for?"

The stone remains cool and silent.

"Don't tell me you're full," he says, prodding it with a finger. "Simmons is only little. I'm sure you could go for another."

It stares back, unmoved.

"Well what was so special about her, anyways? Did you really 'choose' her? Or was she just the only one around?" He glares at the stone. "Sure, she's got lots going for her, b-but there are tons of people like that in the world," Fitz sighs and shakes his head. "There was lots wrong with her too, you know. She can be unbelievably frustrating. And cold when she needs to be. You might think she cares for people, but she gets scared and-" he stops. "You could have picked anyone else. Why her?"

He fidgets with his hands, rubbing them together nervously, then takes a step inside the enclosure.

"Well go on then, do your eating thing or whatever. I'm not afraid." He puts a hand against the stone. It feels warm for a moment and he holds his breath. The heat escapes just as quickly and it cools again. He blinks. "I said I'm ready!" He curls his hand into a fist and brings it against the stone roughly. "What? What do you want?" He pushes against it with all his weight, and is moved backwards from the force of the stationary rock. "Am I not good enough? What do you want from me? What can I do?" He's hitting the stone now, pounding his fists against it desperately, painfully, knowing that answers aren't coming, but needing to do something, anything to get rid of this feeling. His knuckles are bloody and his breaths are ragged.

"You need to plant your feet to put more weight behind that punch," he hears from the doorway. He stops, breathing deeply. Bobbi is in the doorway. She wheels herself closer, squaring herself and her wheelchair to where Fitz is leaning against the stone, panting. "Shouldn't that be closed?" She asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Bobbi, I was just-"

"I saw on the monitors." She shrugs, "not much else to do these days while my knee heals. Looked like you could use some talking down," Bobbi stares at him. He looks away. "You know that thing could be dangerous. To you, to the rest of the base..."

"Yeah, well you should tell it that!" Fitz says, pointing at the stone. "It's not doing anything dangerous. It's not doing anything at all. Not since - Not since it took Simmons. I don't know how - I... I can't get answers out of it."

Bobbi nods, and smiles softly. "You know I may be an expert at interrogation, but I've never had much luck in torturing the answers out of objects. Especially alien ones."

Fitz closes his eyes and shakes his head. "What do I do?"

"I don't know," she sighs. "But the first thing you should do is get out of that box."

Fitz rubs his eyes in frustration. He slowly steps out from behind the glass and sits on the steps near Bobbi. "Coulson just gave us a theory. I was hoping it would help, but it's ridiculous."

"Ridiculous seems to be the norm these days," Bobbi chuckles darkly. "What did he say?"

"That it's a door. A door that took Simmons somewhere that she could help. Somewhere she was needed."

Bobbi nods, "and you were hoping that it would take you too?"

He sighs deeply. "I know it's not the most brilliant idea, but… yeah. If it took her somewhere, why wouldn't it take me there too?"

"If it only takes people where they're needed, who's to say it wouldn't take you somewhere entirely different?"

He stares ahead. "There's only one place I need to be."

Bobbi waits a moment before answering. "Wherever Simmons is, if she's still alive - Hear me out," she says, holding a hand up to the glare he shoots her. "There are a lot of unknowns. You need to be prepared."

"Don't you tell me I need to be prepared too!" He stands and paces, speaking louder, "I've been prepared since we were tossed into the ocean to die, and I can't just sit back and accept that there is no way out of this. After everything we've been through, she's alive. She has to be alive. There's always a way, I just - I just need to figure it out!"

"Fitz," Bobbi puts a hand on his arm, and he flinches away. "I only mean that you need to be prepared for what meets you on the other side of that door." He continues to glare, but she looks back with encouragement. "What if there are hostiles? What if she's in danger? If you go through there and you can't get her back…"

"What are you suggesting?"

"I'm just saying, that even if that rock were a human it wouldn't have talked from the beating you gave it." She looks him squarely in the face. "You need training."

* * *

Just as she was learning to adapt to her film-reel of torture, it began to shift. As she started to anticipate the small moments of hope peppered throughout the memories of glances she had missed at the time, suddenly they were gone. Erased from the flashbacks. Alternate stories emerged of what would have, could have, even should have happened if things had been different. And then the flashbacks became mean.

 _She stays to help him heal... but their relationship is only ever broken. She becomes increasingly detached when her attempts to help him don't work and drive him to bitterness and frustration. They try to pretend everything is fine, and work politely next to each other, but their relationship is permanently damaged. They don't speak anymore._

Or, _they avoid being trapped in the medical pod, but both end up captured by Hydra together and are forced to work on projects that are dangerous, that they are violently against. She tries to swallow her pride in order to survive, but Fitz gets them in trouble frequently. When not even torture seems to stop his acts of rebellion, he's taken to a private room. When he returns, her best friend is lost. He's merely an empty, compliant, humorless shell._

Or, _they don't find a way out of the ocean this time and the two lean their foreheads against each other, smiling as the oxygen leaves the pod. He whispers something softly to her before the end, but she doesn't quite hear it as they drift away together._

Or, _he never taps her on the shoulder with something clever to say, and their friendship never grows. They remain bitter rivals and they watch each others' careers and romances from the sidelines. Neither ever truly fitting in anywhere or pushing to become better. He takes a job at the Sandbox. She remains as a professor at the academy. Neither survives the siege from Hydra._

Or, _she never leaves England. Never gets that letter from the Academy. She meets a good and honest man at the hospital where she works. There's an easy routine, and he doesn't ask much of her, content with just being together after a long day. They grow old together, but it's only ever just them and their work. Nothing more. They don't want more. She tells herself they don't need more._

Or, worse still, the one she fears the most begins to play more frequently.

 _They still meet, and they do become close, but she never signs them up for the field. They stay in the lab side by side until things slowly shift, almost without them noticing. No big moments, but added together their closeness grows until their hands linger that much longer and their brief kisses of greeting and congratulations begin to mean more. Though neither of them are sure what to make of it at first, they decide to go for dinner. Within a year they have a small wedding back home and decide to stay to be near family. Soon after that there are toddlers running around their home. She hides her laughter as he tries to set up a play-castle with the most frustration she has ever seen him harbor towards a project. Their life is happy, quiet, comfortable. Nothing dramatic or passionate, it just… fits._

She's not entirely sure why this sends chills down her spine. Is it because she knows it's the life she could have had, and would have wanted? Or is it because it's just too... simple. Too easy. Has she become so addicted to her life of adrenaline and danger, that the thought of quietly settling down to domestic life makes her feel claustrophobic and trapped? Does she crave adventure more than her own happiness? More than the safety and joy of her best friend? Or is it because this version of their life misses something between them? There's a deep, terrifying, all-consuming something that's been developing ever since they first stepped aboard that plane, and the thought of not knowing how much they might truly mean to each other, of how far either of them would go for the other if given the chance... It's her fault. She pushed him. She brought them here. It was because of her that he refused the oxygen beneath the ocean. He would have been safer without her. He would have been happier without her.

Her eyes are too blurry with tears to realize the flashes have stopped. It's not until the dark figure stumbles in front of her that she's finally brought out of her own head. It's a man stumbling in the darkness. He falls to his knees and braces himself on the ground. He sees her and looks back with fear and anger in his eyes.

"How are you here?" He gasps, fighting for consciousness.

"I-I don't know," she pleads. "I don't know what's going on! I don't know where here is!"

He stares at her face and tries desperately to mouth something, though it's nearly impossible for him. "Neg - Negative…" he manages quietly. He collapses.


	3. Prepared

**Previously on The Door:**

 _Fitz and Mac study the Kree Stone, but make little progress until Coulson brings them a theory that it's a door which brings people where they are needed. They dismiss the theory as too far-fetched, yet Fitz still refuses to leave the room. Succumbing to his frustration, Fitz has an angry moment alone with the stone until a still-healing Bobbi tries to comfort him._

 _The flashbacks that Simmons was experiencing become more vivid, and morph into alternate scenarios of what might have happened if small things had gone differently in her life. None of them are pleasant, and one in particular haunts her. Trying to get a grip on the visions, she's brought back to reality when a mysterious man stumbles by her and collapses in the darkness._

* * *

"I would just like to state for the record, one more time, that I think this is a terrible idea," Hunter says.

"Please, you wouldn't be doing this if you didn't want to," Bobbi grunts. "Don't lose focus."

"But look at the guy," Hunter turns to face Bobbi, pointing at Fitz. "He's like a little puppy-dog. One: I'll probably take him out in less than a minute anyway. And two: I can't inflict pain on a face like that. It's just inhumane. It's hardly a fair fi-" He's silenced as Fitz' fist connects with the side of his face. "Oi! What was that?"

"You heard the lady. Don't lose focus!" Fitz grins, shaking his hand.

Hunter glares, rubbing his jaw. "That was a cheap shot!"

"Hardly," Fitz scoffs. "More action, less talk, pretty boy."

"So that's how you want to play this?" Hunter asks, sinking down and raising his fists. "The She-Devil really has taught you all her tricks."

"Bring me your worst," Fitz motions with his hand.

Hunter rushes forward. Fists and feet twist through the air, connecting and being blocked at various points by the surprisingly quick scientist. Bobbi calls out, shouting pointers for Fitz to keep in mind as he either blocks correctly or as fists connect with flesh.

She's spent the last few weeks coming to the room with the rock in order to hone the training that Fitz had developed throughout his time with Shield. She could see how frustrated he was, but he refused to leave the room. He even brought his work on the jet in with him, sending Mac to the garage for the large handy-work. Even that wasn't enough, and he grew more and more edgy as answers continued to elude them from the rock. She visited more frequently, helping where she could. Directing his excess energy into something productive was best for everybody, though. It also helped give her something to focus on as she was still confined to her own limitations. She had graduated from the wheelchair, but was still in crutches. For now.

Fitz' instincts were often correct, but he needed the technique. At first she made him go through the movements in slow-motion, training his muscles to know which positions to take. Then she brought in props, weapons, targets. The first day he took on the punching bag, she had to force him to stop. Hurting himself from exhaustion was not an option, and something she frequently had to drill into his head.

This next step was actually testing his skills against real people to see how he held up. It was typically Mac that helped out since he was usually in the room to begin with. Today was the first time she had convinced Hunter to have a shot. He didn't think this was the best use of Fitz or Bobbi's time, so he had stayed away, often going on short missions with Skye, Coulson and the others.

Hunter falls to the floor, hitting his back to the mat that had been set up in the corner of the room. "I should have known your wager on this was rigged, Mac," Hunter laughs as Fitz helps him up.

Mac chuckles from near the case, not looking up from his tablet. "I told you man, the guy's a fast learner." Fitz can't help but smile along with the two men. This was actually more fun than he expected.

Bobbi nods to Fitz. "Tell me where you went wrong."

He sighs, the grin slipping from his face, replaced by grim determination. "I favored my..." he shrugs his right arm.

"Say it in full. Don't stutter. You what?"

"My bad hand. I used my bad hand over my good one," he frowns.

"That's right," Bobbi says. "I don't care if your instinct is to go right-handed, your left packs the most power. You have to learn to use it as much as your right."

"Jeez, Bobbi," Hunter dusts himself off and stares. "Be a little more sensitive will you? He still beat me."

"If he can't learn to work with his weaknesses, they will always be used against him. We've gone through this enough times that he knows better by now."

"Really Hunter, it's fine," Fitz says, rubbing his right fist.

"It is not fine," Hunter holds a hand up and takes a step towards Bobbi. "Fitz has been perfectly capable of handling himself in any situation he's gone up against so far. This, the drill sergeant routine, it's completely unnecessary."

"It's necessary," Bobbi quips back. "I'm preparing him for situations he hasn't encountered yet."

"Like what, one-on-one combat with trained assassins? When will an engineer ever have to face something like that without backup? Especially now?"

"You never know…" Fitz mutters quietly, feeling very much in the middle.

"Hunter's just sore because he got beat, Fitz. You know I think you're doing well."

"Bobbi there's no need for any of this. What are you doing? Really?"

Bobbi stares into Hunter's eyes, hiding all emotion, keeping her mouth firmly shut.

"Hey, Fitz, come take a look at this," Mac chimes in from the other side of the room.

"Oh thank God," Fitz mutters to the ceiling as he removes himself from between the bickering couple. "What have you got?"

Hunter moves closer and touches Bobbi's elbow softly, "I know you went through something with Ward and Kara…" Bobbi's mouth presses more firmly together and her eyes momentarily break away. "- and I respect your decision to not talk about it. Really I do," Hunter adds quickly. "But it feels an awful lot like you're putting some of whatever that was onto Fitz. Like you're asking him to go looking for danger."

"I haven't asked him to do anything that he isn't prepared for," Bobbi says firmly. "Sometimes bad things happen, Hunter, we all know that. Sometimes we have to do whatever it takes to protect the people we love, especially when it feels like we're trapped with our hands tied."

"Like when you took a bullet for me?"

Bobbi looks down. "His situation is different than ours."

"Because he loves her?"

"Hunter, I-"

"I really hate to break this moment up," Fitz says, poorly hiding his irritation. He's wearing large headphones that are attached to the sound amplifier in Mac's hands. "But maybe you'd like to finish your conversation somewhere a little more private?" He crosses his arms and waits for them to respond.

Hunter and Bobbi take a step back from each other, not realizing how close they'd become. Bobbi clears her throat and looks away. Hunter claps his hands together with a shrug.

"Right. Sorry mate, we were just…"

"Never mind," Fitz waves them off. "Please just go get a room - a different room. Preferably one where people aren't trying to work."

Bobbi closes her eyes and nods. "Sorry Fitz. I'll stop by again later for more drills." She adjusts the crutches under her arms and steps purposely away from Hunter out of the room. He shakes his head and follows her out.

"Right, well that should make it easier to hear what you found," Fitz says, turning his attention back to the stone. "What was it you wanted to show me?"

Mac turns from the doorway back to his friend. "Okay," he sizes Fitz up for a moment, but decides not to press the matter. "There's this odd humming that started while you were sparring. It doesn't seem like much on its own, and it's happened before. But I noticed that if you match up the frequency on this monitor here," he motions to the tablet and opens the correct screen.

"A heartbeat…" Fitz says, eyes widening.

"Maybe not," Mac points out. "It could just as easily be a slow build to an energy surge that's coming. But there's no denying it this time. This space rock is definitely up to something."

Fitz nods excitedly. "Okay," he says, a smile creeping up his lips. "Okay, great work. We're finally getting somewhere with this." He puts his hand on the back of his head, thinking. Things are actually starting to happen. Is there a chance that this is the moment he's been preparing for?

"I just need to, uh… Can you-" Fitz scans around the room, and removes the headphones. "You run and grab Coulson to let him know we've made progress. I just need to…" Fitz racks his brain, trying not to forget all the steps he's prepared. He knows he's stashed a bag of supplies under the side table. He goes for it first, not wasting a moment.

"Hey Fitz, the pattern's changing," Mac says tapping the tablet. "Maybe if we get inside there…"

Fitz turns just in time to see Mac open the glass case. "Wait!" He shouts, "No no n-" As if in slow motion, the rock begins to melt. "Mac! Move!" A tidal wave of black liquid rushes over the tall man.

Fitz blinks, his heart hammering in his chest. Taking a deep breath he grabs hold of the bag and runs full tilt towards the case, hoping to get there before it reforms again. He can see it start to slither backwards and he jumps, reaching forward with everything he can muster.

It suddenly feels like he's in free-fall. His stomach is in his throat and there's a heavy pressure surrounding him from all sides, making it impossible to breathe. He shuts his eyes tightly and he doesn't dare open them. It feels like he's spinning, getting tossed around in every direction. Finally, with a start, he feels hard earth beneath him and he senses sunlight.

When he's sure the world has stopped spinning, he tentatively opens an eyelid. The first thing he sees is a bewildered Mac doubled over in the dirt, gasping for air. He then opens both eyes and takes in his surroundings. There are low trees everywhere and a rough cliff-face to their backs.

Fitz jumps to his feet and only stumbles a little as he rushes forward with only one thing on his mind. "Jemma?!" He shouts to the wide empty field. Hot wind rushes against his face, but there's no response other than groans from Mac on the ground.

"Jemma!" Fitz calls again, rushing to the opposite direction. The sound of his voice echoes back.

"Fitz, I don't think-"

"Sh, shush…" Fitz says, listening attentively to something rustling nearby.

Mac rolls his eyes, and they land on the bag of supplies sprawled haphazardly on the ground. He stares at it, then turns angrily to his friend. "Did you pack? Tell me you did not plan on this happening!"

"Hush!" Fitz says. "Someone's coming!"

Sure enough, the figure of small woman steps out from behind a small patch of trees not too far off. Fitz takes a step closer so he can get a better look. She's wearing a scarf over her face to shield from the intense sun. He holds his breath as she gets closer and she reaches up to take it off.

"Greetings, my friends," the woman says in a rich accent. Her eyes are dark and round, deeply set against her even darker skin. Fitz feels the blood drain from his face as he realizes his hopes have failed him again. "My name is Kesia," the woman says. "Welcome to Wakanda."

* * *

Simmons gasps as the man in front of her suddenly sits straight up. He'd been lying unconscious on the ground for... she really has no concept of time in this place, but it's been a long time. He'd been muttering to himself in a strange language on and off, which was how she knew he was still alive.

Having the company was at least better than being in this strange place alone, even if he was unconscious. It had given her something to focus on that wasn't her own situation, or her own twisting memories that she was doing her best to ignore. Slipping back into her caretaker role, she checked his pupils, his pulse and his breathing. Seeing no wounds, she felt a little safer, but still, she had no idea where she was or who this man was, so she didn't want to take any chances. She took off her cardigan and twisted it around like a rope, securing the man's wrists together at his front. Just in case.

Feeling much more like she'd accomplished something, Simmons sat on the ground, pulling her knees up to her chest and waited. She did her best to take in her surroundings, but it was so dark and vast that it was difficult. Sometimes the sky was a deep wine red, but sometimes it was an even deeper blue-black. There never appeared to be daylight. In fact the only light that she could see was a soft green haze, a fog dancing along the horizon like the northern lights. There's sand and dust everywhere, and big rocky cliffs in the distance. It looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place where she'd seen it before.

Her mind raced, trying to piece together what it all meant. Where on Earth could she be? Perhaps somewhere very far north or very far south at a time when the sun is out of reach. But while it was chilly, it was not nearly cold enough for either of the poles, she realized. There was no snow, and she was perfectly fine even without her cardigan.

She looked down at her hands and finally allowed herself to properly think of the moments before she came to this place. She still had no idea how long it had been, but what would have happened back home? Would they have noticed she was missing by now? Fitz probably would have grown impatient with waiting for her and returned with dinner options. Would he have realized that something was off, or would he have just assumed she'd run away again? Imagining what might have happened sparked ghostly figures to form again in the air before her. Fitz stood glaring at her, accusing, hurt, silent. Skye joined him. Then Coulson and May, Bobbi and Hunter, Mac, even Koenig. They all closed in around her, slowly inching nearer and nearer. She buried her face in her hands, doing everything she could to shut down her mind.

That's when the man on the ground sits up. Simmons jumps, remembering where she is and that it's just the two of them. He struggles, gasping for air and moving his arms about, tangled in his makeshift bonds. He looks around wildly, panicked, until she comes carefully towards him.

"It's okay. It's okay, you're safe," Simmons says, her voice shaking. "I'm Jemma," she offers. He still looks terrified, but his breathing slows down somewhat, and he furrows his eyebrows.

"You speak English," the man says, bewildered. Jemma nods with a shrug.

"I have all my life," she tries to smile. "I actually come from England itself, so…"

"You're human?" He breathes.

Jemma's smile freezes and she looks carefully at the man. She hesitates before responding. "Yes I'm human. A-And you're…?" She gulps, her mouth suddenly dry, unable to finish the question.

He takes a breath and coughs for a few moments, then shakes his head, apparently remembering himself. "My apologies," he softens. "I haven't introduced myself. My name is MarVell."

He tries to offer her a hand to shake, but the cardigan around his wrists holds back the easy movement and tears as his arm goes forward. He looks down and tries to smile apologetically. At his movement, though, she immediately tries to shift back, distancing herself from him. He stops, dropping his arm, realizing he's scared her. "I promise that I mean you no harm, Jemma," he says, wheezing. "I was stationed on Earth for some time, and I have nothing but respect for your people."

She continues to stare at him, questions racing across her face until she finally manages to form words. "But you're not… what- what are you?"

He sighs carefully, wincing. "I am a member of the Kree empire. Sent to Earth to gather information about our enemies."

She blanches. His voice is friendly, but his words send fear trickling down her spine. "You're Kree?"

He nods, sucking in a deep, ragged breath. "I have a partner, also human. We're just trying to help-" he says, lifting his palms out to show he's not going to hurt her. "It's a long story, but I've been trapped here and we've been working on a way to get me back to Earth."

She re-plays his words in her mind and her heart stops. "We're not… this isn't Earth?"

"No," he shakes his head, "and it's not safe here. As you can tell, my health is deteriorating. I've been here too long. I believe it's from prolonged exposure to radiation."

"Radiation?" she breathes. "What is this place?"

"We call it the Negative Zone."

She manages to nod, numbly, trying to gain control of her breathing.

"It's… the best way I can describe it is a place between worlds," MarVell says. "Everything here is reversed in polarity. Negative. Hence the name," he chuckles shortly. His breath catches and he begins coughing. She immediately reaches out, then pauses, debating the instinct to go help him. His coughs soon subside on their own, though, and she focuses again on her own shallow breaths.

She nods once more, taking a few moments to try and process all of the new and terrifying information about her circumstances. "Are there… Do you…" She glances beside her quickly, "Are visions a common symptom of this place?" she asks quietly.

The man carefully looks at her, and slowly shakes his head. "I've never had them here," he says. "But I suppose it's possible. I can't imagine they'd be pleasant."

She looks down, smiling darkly. "No. Pleasant is definitely not the word I would use."

"This is a dangerous place," he reminds her with a rasp in his throat. "As a human, you shouldn't be able to survive here on your own…" He looks at her with mild suspicion. "How did you say you got here?"

Her eyes peel away from her own hands, and she looks up at him. She realizes that while she doesn't need to give the whole story, her only option right now is to be honest. He's too weak to do her much harm, and he appears to consider himself an ally of some sort. Even if he is Kree, he might be able to help her in some way. Jemma closes her eyes and forces herself to remember her last moments with Fitz again, praying that the visions don't reappear.

"I'm not entirely sure myself," she finally says. "I'm a scientist. Our team came across an alien artifact. A stone, Kree in origin. I was studying it. One minute I was…" She frowns, trying not to think of the way Fitz had looked at her. "-Well, then I was here," she shrugs. "The stone somehow liquefied and took me into it. Perhaps it was some sort of doorway through dimensions, but the next thing I know, I'm in this place. I don't know how, or why. I didn't get a chance to learn much of anything about the stone."

MarVell nods, clearly sorting through his own set of new questions. Finally his face sets, he's decided something. "You need to get back," he says firmly. "We both do, but now we need to get back even sooner than I anticipated." He tries to stand and stumbles, still weak on his knees.

Simmons rushes to his side. "Careful, you shouldn't strain yourself."

"We need to walk," he says. "Let me… There's a lot to catch you up on. I have to show you what we've been working on."

Simmons considers the tall Kree man in front of her. Then, determined, she offers him a hand and a shoulder to lean on. They both rise carefully, and walk together, stumbling through the dust towards one of the large cliffs in the distance.


	4. Disconnect

**Note:** My apologies that this chapter took a little longer than expected. There was a lot to get through and I wanted to do it justice. I've added some characters that are very loosely inspired by the comics, so please be forgiving when I completely hijack them for my own purposes!

* * *

 **Previously on The Door:**

 _Eager to distract a frustrated Fitz from their lack of progress, Bobbi and Mac have been training him in combat. Hunter finally offers to help out too, but it sets the couple off bickering again. Mac thinks he might have found a change in the stone, but before Fitz can get Mac to leave him alone with it, the stone liquefies them both. They wake up in a place called Wakanda, no Simmons in sight._

 _Simmons gets to know the mysterious man, MarVell. He's Kree, and he's sick. He tells her that not only are they no longer on Earth, but they are stuck in a place between worlds called The Negative Zone. He's a friend, and he has a lot to tell her about why they need to get back as soon as possible. She walks with him to see what he's been working on to get back to Earth where his partner is waiting._

* * *

Fitz was having more trouble than usual stringing words together, but at least this time it was mostly his own choice. Mac was chatting easily with the small woman as they walked. Kesia. Fitz had more or less tuned out after Mac insisted they follow her. It was pointed out that there was nothing and no one where they had "landed," and they needed to at least contact the team to let them know they were okay. He gave in silently. It didn't mean he had to like the situation.

A rich laugh in his direction brings him out of his head. He looks up and meets the smiling eyes of the dark-skinned woman. There's a question hanging in the air he knows he must have missed.

"Er- sorry?"

She smiles widely, "I was just saying to your friend Alphonso that you are a man of very few words."

"Hey, I asked you to call me Mac ," the tall man grins.

Her eyes flash to him in a small apology before returning to Fitz. "Mac ," she nods, "says that you are here looking for someone. Your partner?"

He merely nods, not bothering to attempt elaborating. Not trusting his words to hide his frustration. She regards him with sharp, kind eyes, examining his face until he shifts his bag uncomfortably on his shoulder.

"I am afraid you have come to a country that is quite isolated. We do not get visitors often." Fitz keeps looking straight ahead, his mouth set in a grim line.

The sun is beginning to dip red below the rocky horizon, and he can see they are coming up to a large tent on the bank of the river they'd been following.

"We have arrived," Kesia says as they approach the tent. "I am afraid it is not very much, but you will have a safe place to rest and contact your team to let them know where you are." She holds the tent doors open for him and smiles warmly. Fitz hesitates.

Mac stops behind him, nudging him forward. "Go on."

Fitz steels himself and enters the room. There's a thin man inside lighting lanterns around the tent. They make eye contact. Fitz nods once and looks away. The man pauses in confusion for a moment before Kesia enters behind him.

"Rick, I have brought a surprise for you. We have guests."

Mac stops inside the door and his mouth drops as he looks around the room. "Is that the Iridium B10?" He points to a piece of machinery on a table just inside. "I only heard rumors it was in development. How did you get one all the way out here?"

"Well, I developed it," the man reaches out a hand in greeting. "Rick Jones."

Mac reaches out to shake his hand. "Mac enzie. Call me Mac . I thought the tech was strictly Gamma based technology being developed by Bruce Banner."

"He's a friend," Rick shrugs. "We spitball off each other sometimes. He gives me some ideas, I give him some. He's not easy to keep track of, so I take what I can get."

"Man, that's unreal. Bruce Banner himself," Mac gushes. "Fitz did you look at this? Rick - can I hold it?"

Fitz looks out at the tables laid out with many advanced gadgets and tools. On a normal day he would be just as excited at the prospect of getting his hands on such interesting tech, but right now he's single-minded. And grumpy.

"We're only here to use your communications system and camp out before our team can collect us," Fitz says, crossing his arms over his chest. "We'll be out of your hair as soon as we can."

"Where did you say you were travelling from, …?" Rick waits for his guest to provide his name.

"Ah, call me Fitz," he says.

"Not Agent Leo Fitz?" Rick's mouth drops. "One of the youngest graduates to come out of Shield's Sci-Tech Academy?"

Fitz shrugs, "Once upon a time I guess. Doesn't mean very much anymore."

"Shield's had a rough go of it, sure," Rick waves off. "But your reputation precedes you, Agent Fitz."

"You've worked with Shield in the past, I take it?" Mac asks, looking up from the metallic object in his hands. "I hope it was the good version you met up with."

"As good as can be expected," Rick quirks his mouth into a grin. "I didn't work with them as much as some, but I know enough. Say, while you're here I would love it if you could take a look at some of these specs I've got going. Your input would be great on the project I'm working on."

Fitz hesitates, "I ah, really - is there any way we can use the comms first? We really do need to get back as soon as possible."

Kesia nods from the other side of the room, "I was going to have Carol patch them through from New York first thing in the morning."

Fitz and Mac exchange glances. "The morning? We were hoping to make contact a bit sooner than that."

"The electricity here tends to be a bit… difficult," Rick says apologetically. "It's the nature of the project we are working on."

Kesia nods in agreement. "It may take a few days for your team to get here as it is. Africa is not the easiest airspace to get through without the difficulties of our particular project."

"Right. Okay," Mac says. He glances at Fitz who shakes his head and begins to pace. "What exactly is this thing you're working on?"

"I, ah, I'll be happy to show you bits of it when the sun comes up," Rick offers. "We're basically trying to combine aspects of Particle Acceleration with Gamma Radiation technology to create a sort of… well, quantum energy jump." Fitz registers a pause in the explanation. His interest would have been piqued if he weren't so focused on the fact that his window of time for finding Jemma was steadily shrinking.

"Fitz, that sounds like something you'd have a much better crack at than me," Mac says, forcing a smile. "I'm more a mechanic, so I can help out where I can, but he's the real brains of the operation."

"I ah," Fitz searches for words, not trusting them with his growing agitation.

"Of course, only if you're willing to help out," Rick says. "We'd love a different perspective on this one section that we're a little stuck on."

Fitz breathes deeply, pacing with his hands on his hips.

"Hey, we've got a few days to kill don't we?" Mac grins, looking at Fitz. "I don't see why we can't help out while we're here."

Fitz glares at Mac , still unable to form proper sentences. He feels Kesia's eyes following him.

"But we need to-" He can feel his time slipping away. "I just need to, ah. I think-" He stops mid-step and looks down. "I'm going to grab some air." He turns and quickly pushes his way out of the tent.

"Hey, Fitz!" Mac calls, following him out.

Fitz is breathing heavily, kicking at the dirt, frowning deeply. Kesia stands in the doorway, "I do not recommend being outside long after the sun has set" she says slowly. "There are many... wild animals that come out at night."

Fitz holds up a hand to her. "I just need - can you-?" As helpful as she's trying to be, her presence starts to feel suffocating. He doesn't want to stay here. He doesn't want to go inside the stuffy tent and waste another night. He looks up at her quickly. "Can you just give us a minute?" He snaps.

She nods once and slips back into the tent without a word.

"Fitz," Mac growls. "I know this isn't ideal but it doesn't mean you have to be a jerk to these people."

Fitz turns to Mac , not bothering to keep his voice down. "You can't be bloody serious!"

"I'm sorry?"

"Days! They said it's going to take days to get anyone up here and you're perfectly happy to just putter around and help on their special little project."

"Do you have a problem with that? It's not like we can do much else in this situation."

"Well isn't that just great for you! You get to play around with that little B10 thing for a few days and head back home, happy as can be."

"Hey, if there's something you're holding back, please just get it out."

"We shouldn't be _here_!" Fitz shouts. " _You_ shouldn't be here. It all went wrong! If you weren't there, if you'd just gone to Coulson like I asked, it would have been fine. I would have been taken right to-"

"-What? You think this is my fault we can't find Simmons?" Fitz stares ahead, pursing his lips into a firm line. "I wasn't the one that refused to leave that room. I didn't want to get sucked up into another mess of Alien crap. I was only ever helping the team, helping you."

"Yeah, well now we're stuck here because of you and your help. I need to get back and try again. We still don't even know what triggered it, and we're wasting time here! We don't even know if she's - We need to get back. Now!"

"Hey, Fitz." Mac softens, "Don't think I don't know how important she is to you, but we've got to take this one step at a time." He crosses his arms in front of his chest and looks down at his friend. "There's a man in there who's worked with Bruce Banner and has tech we've barely considered being in the realm of possibility. They're working on something that's bound to change the face of the scientific community, and you're ignoring it all."

Fits sets his face, his mouth forming a thin line.

Mac sighs, "We're agents of Shield. We're tasked with helping when we can, and it sounds like these people could use our help. Your help. I know this situation isn't ideal, but we're here, and we have the ability to lend a hand on something important. We'll get home when we can, but are you really just going to step aside from this because things didn't go your way?"

Fitz glares silently for a full minute. He taps his foot, then looks up angrily. "I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

"Fitz…"

The engineer has a terrible sleep that night. He sees flashes of dark red cliffs and shadows that are just out of his reach. He wakes in a cold sweat and just stares at the ceiling of the tent. The sun is only just starting to rise. He doesn't bother trying to fall back asleep. He makes contact with the Playground as soon as he can, with Kesia's help.

He spends the rest of the morning sitting at one of the tables, examining all the tools by himself, thinking. Eventually Kesia comes to the table and stands quietly behind him.

"We are very grateful that you are willing to help us," she says, offering him a mug of tea.

"Yeah, well," he looks up and smiles quickly, accepting the mug. "It's only for a few days. Might as well keep busy while we wait. The team's on the way."

Kesia is silent for a moment. "You must really care about her," she says, sitting down next to him.

He can feel his face heat up, and he fiddles with the gadget in his hand, not responding.

"I don't mean to pry," she says. "It is nice to see such devotion. May I ask how long she has been missing?"

"Too long," he says softly, staring at his fingers. "It's- it's a long story."

The dark woman nods and takes a sip, letting the silence linger. "It is difficult to be away from home, no matter how much time has passed."

Fitz winces. "Sorry if you overheard us last night," he looks at her apologetically. "Really I don't mind helping out for a few days. I was just frustrated that we ended up taking a step backwards instead of, well-" he shrugs with a sigh. "I know we'll get home soon enough and can start again."

A sad smile rises up the side of her full lips. "You misunderstand my meaning of the word Home, Leo." She rests her mug on the table and rises.

Rick and Mac come into the room before he can respond. "How long have you two been up?" Rick smiles, grabbing some of the tools off the table and putting them in his pack.

Fitz looks over to Mac and offers him what he hopes is an apologetic smile. "We made contact back home. Kesia gave the coordinates and May's on her way. Should be a few days, as predicted. They were glad to hear we're okay."

Mac looks at Fitz cautiously, then nods. "May's back from her vacation? I was willing to bet she'd never give that up. It'll be nice to see her again."

"I'm interested to see what this project is," Fitz says, standing and looking at Rick. "See if we can help out any while we're here."

Rick grins in approval. "An honour to have you on board. We're heading back to the cliffs now to take a look at the site. Grab a pack and join us."

Fitz nods. Mac tosses over the bag that Fitz brought with them. "Luckily he brought his own gear."

The small group follows the river, retracing their steps from the day before, back to the cliff. It's not a long walk, but it grows steadily hotter. They come to a group of trees and Rick drops his pack. He pulls some branches aside from a section of the cliff face to reveal what looks like an old mine shaft door set in the rock, made from metal. He clears away more branches and brambles, uncovering what looks like a power source and an access panel.

"Well, here it is," Rick gestures, kicking the power source lightly with the toe of his boot.

"What sort of particle accelerator are you making?" Fitz says, staring through the door to the deep black tunnel behind it.

"It's not strictly a particle accelerator, actually," Rick says. "We're just harnessing some of that technology and adapting it for our own needs. Here, let me turn it on." Rick reaches down to the access panel and flicks a switch. A shimmering green mist pours down from the top of the frame like a wall of liquid nitrogen, hovering in place. Fitz looks closely at the mist and for a brief second sees a flash in a distinctly human shape. When he blinks, it's gone, and he's not entirely sure that he really saw it. He shakes his head.

"The idea is that we need to be able to pass matter through the mist at a high speed but in a compact manner," Kesia explains, looking at Fitz. "The tunnel behind this door is not deep. We have made progress by using liquid nitrogen as the catalyst, charged with gamma radiation. It is able to temporarily transform the matter into a form of light so that it can easily pass through what would normally be great distances."

Fitz nods, impressed. "How is the frame able to withstand such high amounts of energy? It looks like metal, but the only metallic substance I can think of that wouldn't be immediately destroyed is Captain America's Shield," Fitz chuckles dryly, "and something tells me he's a bit busy with it."

Kesia and Rick exchange a long look, as though they are trying to decide what they can say.

"Hold on. The frame, all the tools. They're all made from the same metal, and I was wondering why I couldn't recognize it at first. You're not saying-"

"That is why Rick is here," Kesia admits. "This country is home to the largest known deposit of Vibranium. It is the only material strong enough to withstand the process we are trying to achieve. Rick was given special permission by the village elders. If it weren't vital…"

"Right. Vibranium. A super-metal," Mac deadpans. "Completely normal. Go on."

Fitz looks at the doorway again. "So you're hoping to, um," he's distracted by a movement briefly crossing its surface. He rubs his eyes. "You're hoping to achieve _what_ with this, exactly?"

"There are many uses," Rick evades, exchanging a glance with Kesia. "My backers in New York are hoping to revolutionize data transfer at millions of times what fibre optics are capable of. We are hoping this technology can be harnessed for medical purposes too, perhaps even transportation."

Fitz looks between them, growing suspicious. "But with the speeds of a particle accelerator boosted by the energy from gamma rays, you're talking about transporting things at unheard of distances. We're talking... light years."

"We've considered that possibility too. Space exploration could be that much easier without the need for a ship or a trained crew, or time to get across the universe."

Fitz frowns. "Why didn't you tell us about this earlier?"

"Hey Fitz, stop hounding them." Mac pats him on the back, trying to keep things light and friendly. "I don't think they're actually talking about teleporting people through space just yet," Mac grins at Rick and Kesia. The silence lasts a little too long, and is telling. "Right?"

"Well," Rick says, "not through space, exactly."

At that moment a bright flash emits from the doorway. They all duck as sparks fly out from it.

"This happens every time," Rick shouts, running to the panel with his tools.

Mac stops him, grabbing his shoulder. "No you don't, Buddy. I think it's time you're straight with us. We're a long way from home and in no mood to be played."

"We're not playing you," Ricks says quickly. "I swear. Please just let me shut this down and I'll explain."

"No, why don't you explain fast and I'll let you shut it down if I like your answer?"

Kesia tries to rush forward, panicked at the amount of sparks pouring from the doorway, but Fitz blocks her way, nodding to Rick to answer the question.

"Tell us what's really going on."

Rick looks anxiously at the panel, sparks spurting and growing bigger. "I have a partner that I need to get hold of," he says quickly. "He's - he's been trapped in a different dimension. This door is supposed to get to him, but it's broken. We've been developing it ever since we knew we needed to get him back, but it's taking too long, and we need his help _now_."

"Trapped in a different dimension? How gullible do you think we are, Rick?" Mac leans in close to the man's face.

Fitz shrugs from where he is, "Actually, Mac , that part of it makes the most sense, really. All things considered."

Mac raises an eyebrow at Fitz, then turns back to Rick. "Okay, fine. Your friend is trapped," he rolls his eyes, "in _another dimension_. What do you need his help _with_ exactly?"

The door lets out a large flash again and goes dark for a moment. They all flinch back and watch it, waiting for something to happen.

When they realize nothing is going to hurt them, Mac shakes Rick's arm for him to continue. Rick is jumpy, but says "it's a long story, okay? I don't know where to start because I only know bits and pieces."

Fitz stares at the screen. It's started to let out a soft hum and something catches his eye again. An image bleeds into the surface where the mist should be flowing. He steps closer to it.

"So tell us the first piece you know then," Mac growls. "We've got days to wait this out, Rick. You might as well give us everything you have!"

But Rick's eyes are now locked on the door as well. "Shush," the Scottish man breathes. Mac looks over. Fitz has raised his hand up to the door. "Don't- don't say anything for a minute."

Fitz blinks. The image is slowly taking shape in the doorway, bleeding into focus. Like a screen. He holds his breath. Her dark hair is damp and curling. She looks tired. Haunted. It's Jemma.

* * *

Simmons stands at the bottom of the cliff face, staring blankly ahead. MarVell brought her to this place. It wasn't far, but he struggled through the journey, explaining as much as he could between labored breaths. He collapsed soon after arriving at their destination, leaving her alone to process everything he told her.

The darkness begins to seep into her bones again and the screen appears in front of her suddenly, making her jump. She shuts her eyes tightly.

"J-Jemma?"

She hears her name echo and it tugs at her heart. That voice. She's heard it so often in this place.

"Jemma, is that you?" She shakes her head and covers her ears. It's happening again.

"Jemma! It's me. Where are you? Are you okay?"

"No, no!" She cries. "Not again!"

"Jemma! What is it? Where-?"

The desperation in his voice is different this time. She opens her eyes against her better judgement. There he stands in the frame in front of her. He looks the same, yet somehow different. More ragged. He reaches out a hand and jumps back as if shocked by something. She tilts her head, waiting for his expression to get angry or hurt.

"Fitz," she breathes.

"Yeah, Jemma, it's me." But his expression only fills with longing and worry as he searches her face. No anger, not yet. "Where are you? Are you safe?"

It's the look she's learned to recognize from the continuous flashbacks. It's the look that tears at her insides, making her wish she'd recognized it when she had the chance. What she wouldn't give for it to be real, to have her mind stop taunting her with everything she had missed. She grabs the back of her neck, turning away, pleading. "Stop it! Please! You're not here. You're not real!"

"What?" He takes a small step away and his face twists with confusion. "Jemma," he moves forward again, inches from the screen. "Please, look at me. I'm real. You're -" he lets out a deep breath. "Trust me, this is real." His eyes are shining, pleading with her.

Jemma moves forward carefully. "But, Leo…" She hears the broken hope in her own voice as she talks to herself.

"Jemma, it's me," he smiles. "I swear it's me. What happened to you?"

She risks a smile back, deciding to let herself enjoy this brief moment before it goes away.

"I don't know Fitz. I'm so sorry. I know we had… things to talk about. It all went wrong, and I'm so sorry."

He holds his breath before responding. "No, don't, you don't have to apologize. We're - I - I'm working on getting you back. I'll find you and we'll talk then. Where are you, Jemma?"

She laughs bitterly. "Between worlds! At least that's what he says."

"He? You're with someone? Jemma, are you safe?"

She bites her lip, and shakes her head in exasperation, "He calls this place 'The Negative Zone' because it's all backwards. He says he's trying to get back to Earth but the doorway is broken. He collapsed before he could show me or tell me how to fix it. He's sick and we're stuck again. I'm so sorry Fitz."

"A door? There's a door there too?"

"Yes... or there's supposed to be, but these visions keep getting in the way."

Fitz stares for a moment then grabs the back of his head with one hand.

"Visions? Jemma, is there a screen or something in front of you? How are you seeing me right now?"

She pauses. "Yes, yes there's a sort of screen…" She replays what he's said. Her visions never asked about that before. "Hold on... _Fitz_?"

"Yeah, tell me, what does it look like?"

"I-I don't know... it's a screen. It's a light, it just appears in mid-air," she swallows, her heart starting to race with excitement.

"How long does it last? How long have we got?"

"I'm not sure. Wait, are you telling me… Fitz? Where are you?"

"In Africa!" he grins. They both let out a laugh, almost in relief. "There's a door on this end too but it's broken. We're going to fix it. We're working on it. Mac is here, and so is Rick, and well, you haven't met him yet, but people are helping."

"Rick? Fitz, I swear, if this ends up not being real again…"

"Jemma of course this is real," he laughs. "That's what I've been trying to tell you!"

She nearly laughs too. "Okay," she stares into his eyes, allowing herself to believe him just enough. "Okay! What do you need?" She sets her voice into the familiar work mode, happy to have something productive to focus on. "How do I help?"

"Hold on," he says, checking a panel to the side of the screen. "Okay, tell me, what color is the light on the screen on your end? What do you see when it appears usually?"

"Er, well, it's white," she says. "I usually see, um, flashbacks mostly," she says quietly. "Sort of. Things that... that happened before, but they go wrong. It feels real, but they can't be."

She looks up from her hands and he's studying her face intently. He quickly pastes a smile on his own. "You haven't had to sit through Professor Vaughn's lectures again, have you? That would be just torture," he smiles weakly.

She looks down and swallows hard. "No. Nothing like that. What's happening on your end, then?"

Fitz licks his lips, tearing his eyes away to check the edges of the screen. "Right. Well, we're just sort of… Hold on. Let me just try… ah. Is there any difference when I do this?"

The screen flickers for a moment and she's plunged back into darkness. "No!" She cries out when she realizes she's been left alone again. She reaches out to the empty space in front of her and finds it difficult to catch her breath. Just as suddenly, the light flashes on again, bigger and brighter this time, and he's back, panic written all over his face too.

"Jemma?"

Their eyes lock in relief and without thinking she reaches out for him through the light. He reaches out too and their hands connect for a brief miraculous moment. They both stare at each other, with longing and fear, hearts hammering in their chests. He smiles softly and his thumb draws a small circle on the back of her hand. It's the most comfort she's felt in a long time. She smiles back. All too soon a bright pain starts growing at her wrist where her hand is caught between the light, between worlds. She bites back a cry of pain and holds on as long as she can before he lets go and pushes her hand back to her side of the screen.

"Jemma, are you hurt?"

"I'm fine, Fitz. I'm sorry, that was reckless, I-."

He smiles at her, "Please stop saying that. There's nothing to be sorry for."

She looks down and rubs her wrist where the shock forced her back. She looks back up shyly. "So whatever you did appeared to have some sort of effect."

"Yeah. I, um, I added a charge to the - the energy source on this end. It helped but I don't think it lasts as long as we need it to."

She nods, "What is the energy source?"

"We're using gamma radiation blasted through a - a, like a battery."

"A battery. Have you tried reversing the polarities on it yet?" She asks. "If we're trying to cross dimensions, it needs to compensate for the polarity on this end as well, and-"

"-Everything's reversed there," he finishes for her.

"Right," she smiles encouragingly.

"Right, okay. Let me give that a try." He reaches down and adjusts something to the side. The image becomes clearer for a moment, but then starts to become fuzzy around the edges.

"The energy decays too quickly," Jemma says. "It's trickling out the longer the door remains open. It won't-"

"-Last long or strong enough to get you both through. You're right. We need to create a blast of energy for this to work. To get two of you to cross over together, we need to- um,"

"Have one concentrated blast that will last long enough. For at least a couple of minutes," she says. "But how can you produce that big of an energy surge?"

"Hold on, Rick?" Fitz looks beside him in excitement. He shorts out on the screen for a moment, making her heart skip. He returns instantly, though, listening to what someone is saying near him. He grins, "Mac , did you hear that? Run back to the camp and grab all the supplies you-" Only the sound cuts out this time, but the image starts to get fuzzy.

"Fitz," Jemma calls out. He turns back to her when he hears his name.

"Jemma?"

"Fitz, I don't think we have much time left."

He looks at the screen, examining the edges. His eyes fall back to her face.

"We're going to get you back, I promise. This won't take long."

The sincerity and determination in his eyes makes her voice catch. "I know, Fitz. I- I have to tell you something first though, before the door runs out of power. In case I don't get another chance."

"Jemma, you don't have to-"

"Fitz, I-" The screen blinks out for a moment again, and he jumps when his image reappears on the screen, sparks flying on his end.

"Jemma, you can tell me when you get back, when we fix this."

"Fitz, please. If this doesn't work you have to make sure to tell the others, okay? Promise me."

"I - okay," he says, his voice catching. "I promise. But this will work, I know it will."

"Of course," she smiles with what she hopes is encouragement, "but please listen to me. It's important." He nods and she pushes forward. "He told me why he's here, why he needs to get back." She swallows, hoping she's making sense. "Remember the war, Fitz? The reason the Kree created the Inhuman weapons thousands of years ago?"

"Yeah, with the Kree and hunter that came for Skye. Hard to forget it," he says, searching her face.

"Fitz, that war isn't over. They're still on Earth."

"What do you mean?"

"The enemies of the Kree. They're hiding. They're still there and they want the Earth for themselves."

She only has time to register the look of fearful understanding that reaches Fitz' face before the light pulls away completely, and she's once again plunged into darkness.

She blinks, holding back her sob for a full minute before letting herself accept that the doorway is shut down for good this time.


	5. Trust

**Previously on The Door:**

 _Fitz and Mac get to know their hosts, scientists Kesia and Rick Jones, who allow them to stay and contact the team from their tent. Mac is eager to help out with their project for a few days while they wait for their team to collect them, though Fitz is not happy that his plan has been derailed and delayed. When they learn more about the project and its connections to vibranium, Mac becomes suspicious, until it appears to be a portal to the Negative Zone where Simmons is._

 _Jemma has trouble believing that she's really talking to Fitz through the doorway and that he's not just another one of her visions. When he convinces her that it's really him, they share a small moment and work together to try to fix the door. When it becomes clear that the connection is about to break, she tells him what MarVell told her before he collapsed: The Kree are still at war, and their enemies are hiding on Earth._

* * *

The hours that followed were tense, to put it mildly. No one talked much other than to ask for certain tools or curse in frustration when something didn't work. Fitz was pleased enough to focus on the task finally. Though the atmosphere wasn't full of camaraderie or pleasantness, he was happy that it was at least efficient. Giving direction was much easier when the prolonged silences gave him a chance to think through all the possibilities they were dealing with.

It was the undercurrent of hostility and distrust that made things difficult. Mac had immediately demanded Rick explain what was going on, and when his answers were patchy, Fitz had to step in to restrain his friend.

"She's talking about the Skrull," Rick had said, whimpering. Mac had Rick up against the rocks, pinning his arms. "MarVell, my partner, received intell that they were on Earth, covertly slipping into high level positions to prepare for an invasion. I'm trying to get him back so we can stop them."

"Mac!" Fitz shouted when he turned from the dark doorway and saw the scene in front of him. "What are you doing? We don't have time-"

"I'm making time. What the hell did we get ourselves into here?"

"Mac, please." Fitz said, eyes begging. Mac ignored him and tightened his grip on Rick's collar.

"More Aliens? You're telling me no one bothered noticing them walking around."

"They're shape-shifters!" Rick coughed. "They can take the form of any living thing."

"That's convenient," Mac shook him. "How do you know they're aliens, then? How do we know you're not just targeting real people?"

"I don't know! That's what we need MarVell for! That's why we need him back. He can help identify them."

"And how do we know we can trust _him_? Trust _you_?"

"I-" Rick swallowed, clearly choosing not to say something. "He's… He's on our side. That's all you need to know. He can stop them."

"Not good enough," Mac tightened his grip, "that was your last chance." Mac steeled himself and lifted a fist in the air.

"Mac," Fitz warned. Mac barely glanced over his shoulder before he pulled back and punched the man in the jaw. With a crack, Rick's head smacked against the rock and he fell to the floor. Kesia let out a cry and tried to go to him, but Mac stepped forward, leaning down to pick the man back up by the shirt.

"Mac!" Fitz rushed forward, tackling the big man at the knees before he could strike again, toppling him to the ground. They both immediately jumped up, but Fitz stood between Mac and Rick, crouching at the ready.

"Fitz, what are you doing?"

"What the hell are _you_ doing? You just attacked him!"

"He's lying to us," Mac growled. "This could all be some elaborate trap. How do we know he's not a lunatic? Or one of these Skrull things himself? And then there's this MarVell guy. We're completely in the dark and I don't trust _any_ of this."

Lifting a hand out to steady the tension, Fitz kept his eyes strained on his friend. "For all I care, this MarVell character could be a secret weapon sent by the Kree, or Skrull, or whatever monster it is this week," Fitz took a step forward, squaring himself with the tall man. "But right now he's the only chance we have of getting Simmons back, so I could really give a damn about all that." He shrugged, "if he has to come through too, he comes through too. We're losing daylight, so stop - stop fishing for information and just," he looked around himself in exasperation, searching for the word. "-Help," he said.

"That's really all you care about right now?" Mac looked at his friend uneasily, but Fitz held his gaze. Mac scowled at Rick from the corner of his eye, then took a long deep breath and turned to him, offering a hand to help him up. "Sorry about the jaw," he said gruffly.

Rick stood shakily, spitting blood at the dirt. "Yeah," he said. He backed away to the panel at the door, immediately busying himself and keeping his mouth firmly shut. Kesia went to him, checking the cut on the back of his head.

Mac turned back to Fitz and sighed loudly. The smaller man glared back, face etched with concern. Mac dropped his head down and closed his eyes, then looked to the side defiantly. "Sorry Fitz. I lost my temper. Forgot myself. It won't happen again."

"Yeah, well…" Fitz shifted his feet. "As soon as we get them through, we can get all the answers we need. You can interrogate the man himself if you want. We just have to-"

"Yeah. Get Simmons back first. I know. Let's just - just tell me what you need," Mac said. He turned away sharply, facing the door and crossing his massive arms over his chest.

They were making progress. Despite the lack of trust, they were all working towards the same goal at least. Rick gravitated towards Fitz, offering short suggestions, but always with an eye on Mac. Fitz told himself that it wouldn't matter soon. Whatever else was going on, he'd be able to handle it once he knew Simmons was safe. He was so close.

A bright white flash erupted from the door every so often with certain adjustments, but it remained eerily silent. Taking a leaf from the pile he'd collected, he would toss it towards the entrance. With a crack and a sizzle, the leaf usually stopped mid-air between the metal posts, then ignited with green flame. Or white flame. It fell to the earth again in a pile of ash every time. Kesia would look over, and they both would silently return to their tasks, Fitz making another adjustment at the panel.

It's around noon the next day when Fitz sees a dark shape cross through the sky. The roar of the Quinn Jet makes him pause momentarily at the panel to look up. The team is early. He returns his focus to the cables he's connecting to the door.

The wind picks up as the jet prepares for landing. Fitz closes his eyes, not ready for the distraction. He flicks one of the toggles on the panel, and the door begins to hum softly. May and Coulson step out the back of the jet, and Mac walks purposefully over to meet them. He sees them chatting and motioning over to the door. When Mac's tone becomes more hushed, Fitz stands, deciding he'd better go over to discuss what's been going on too.

"Agent Fitz," Coulson nods. "Glad to see you in one piece."

Fitz nods back, giving a small grin. "May," he says, hoping his tone sounds light. "How was your holiday?"

She lets a smile ghost across her face. "Different," she says. "Nice to be off the grid, but looks like I missed a few things," her eyes shift to the door where Rick and Kesia stand uncomfortably.

"Right, that…" Fitz sighs and addresses Coulson. "Sir, this door is our shot to get Simmons back. We-"

Coulson lifts his hand. "We've got the jist of it from Mac," he says. "And I have to say, I share some of his concerns."

Huffing to himself, Fitz opens his mouth to protest, but Mac cuts him off. "It's basically a man-made portal to another world sir. Yes, we believe Simmons is on the other side,"

"It's not just a belief," Fitz scoffs, talking over the other man. "She's physically there. I spoke to her. She can come through when we fix it!"

"But so is another man," Mac continues, raising his voice, "and who knows what else. These guys have some crack-pot story about stopping a secret alien invasion, but how do we know they aren't doing this to start one? We all remember what happened in New York."

Fitz glares dumb-founded at Mac. He had no idea he was _that_ against all of this. Why had he even been helping? Mac looks down quickly and then shrugs, looking back at Coulson.

Coulson purses his lips, then steps over to where Rick and Kesia are, extending his hand. "Thank you for taking care of my Agents at such short notice," he says, shaking their hands in turn. "I understand you have something of interest here. Care to tell me what it is?"

Rick and Kesia look at each other but remain silent.

May steps towards the door, walking around it, considering it. "Coulson, you were right. The mechanics are very similar to the 084 I found in Rio."

"You're Coulson?" Rick says, perking up a little. "I've heard only good things about you. I'm a friend of Bruce Banner. Call me Rick. Rick Jones."

"Rick, good to have a friend around." Coulson nods, smiling. "This door. Tell me honestly, do you really know how dangerous it is? What's waiting on the other side?"

"I-" Rick searches for the right words and looks to Kesia. "Yes."

"Care to elaborate on that?"

"Not to be blunt, Coulson," Rick says, rubbing his jaw, "but I honestly don't know if we can trust you."

"Looks like we have the same problem," Coulson says, sighing. "I'm afraid we can't allow you to continue working on this door. It's too much of a risk."

"Sir, no!" Fitz moves forward. "It's almost ready. Simmons is just on the other side, waiting for us. I spoke to her, I promised I'd get her back."

May moves next to him and Coulson exchanges a hard look with her. He lowers his gaze sadly, "I'm so sorry Fitz. This is a hard call, but it's the right one. We can't expose ourselves to so many unknowns right now." He puts his hand on the scientist's shoulder. "Remember I told you that you may have to face some hard truths? This is the cost of being a Shield Agent. The life of one can't outweigh the safety of many, no matter how much we wish that weren't true."

"But Sir!" Fitz tries to fight the panic welling up in his chest.

"Mac, please start dismantling everything you can," Coulson turns, walking back to the jet.

"I can't let you do this! Mac, please!" Fitz rushes back, grabbing the tall man by the shoulder.

"Agent Fitz. Calm down," May says firmly, raising her pistol in warning.

Fitz lifts his arms out in surrender, surprised at hearing the safety release. He stands there for a moment, then his eyes flit over to Kesia. She's holding a leaf in her hand, and looks pointedly at the door before returning her eyes to Fitz's. They both nod to each other in understanding.

"Sorry, Mac." In one swift movement, Fitz turns and throws all of his weight into connecting his fist with Mac's stomach. The man doubles over in pain and shock, but Fitz crouches behind him, using him as a shield so May can't take aim. Before the tall man can recover, Fitz runs back towards the door. Kesia used the distraction to push one of the levers to full blast. Fitz connects two last cables together, effectively reversing the polarities of the power.

The door erupts in a burst of bright white light and a gust of wind. All other movement behind them stops as the others freeze, realizing what's happening.

"Now!" Fitz shouts.

He holds his breath as Kesia throws the leaf forwards. It stops for a moment between the metal posts and grows bright, almost translucent, then falls backwards through the door, disappearing with a soft flutter.

The door was open. They did it.

* * *

A broad leaf drifts through the air and lands on the ground in front of Simmons. Lifting it to examine what now seems like such a foreign object, she quirks her head.

"Jemma?"

She stands immediately at the sound of his desperate voice. The blinding white light has torn through the air behind her and a wind rushes through.

"Fitz?" she calls.

"I think- We've got it working. Are you ready?"

"I can't see you," she says, squinting in the light.

"Trust me! You have to hurry! We don't have much time."

"Right. Hold on," she says. She scampers over to where MarVell is on the ground and slaps him firmly on the face a few times. "Wake up. Please wake up!" She shakes him and is grateful when there's a groan. His eyes ease open and shut drunkenly. "We have to go now. Can you stand?"

He blinks, squinting in the bright light from the door. "It's working?" he mutters.

Grabbing his arm, she thrusts it over her shoulders and holds onto his waist, pulling up with all her might towards the door. He's hardly able to get his footing, so she half-stumbles, half-drags him the few feet towards the door.

"Fitz, we're coming. I've got MarVell with me!"

"Great. Hurry Jemma! It's starting to fade out again."

With one last thrust, she pushes the semi-conscious man in front of her through the door. He's encased in the light and glows nearly translucent for a moment before falling forward and disappearing. Eyes wide, Jemma swallows her fear. She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes and jumps forward through the light and wind.

It's as though her entire body is on fire. Every cell screams out, being torn apart into trillions of pieces, scattered across galaxies and timelines and forced back together. Despite all of this, she can see his face, somehow. Whether it's her imagination or reality rushing towards her, she focuses in on him, like a touchstone. His wide blue eyes guiding her home.

Finally, she falls forward, her hands and knees scraping through dirt and grass. She shudders in deep breaths and looks up. Fitz is kneeling beside the prone form of MarVell a few feet away. His face turns anxiously towards the doorway, and when he sees her, it's as though time slows. Their eyes lock and the rest of his body turns and stumbles as he rushes to her side. He slides to his knees in front of her.

"Jemma," he says cautiously, reaching out a hand, but almost afraid to touch her.

She smiles up at him wearily, pushing herself up from the dirt to kneel next to him. "Hi Fitz," she says shyly.

Relief floods his face. He lets out a breath that's neither a sob nor a laugh, and brings his shaking hands to her face, brushing her hair back. She lifts a hand to cup one of his against her cheek, closing her eyes and leaning in to savor his touch. His thumb brushes gently along her skin, memorizing how it feels.

"Jemma." He leans forward and presses a kiss into her forehead, taking a moment to breathe in the scent of her. He then quickly kisses her temple and pulls her whole body close in a tight embrace. She buries her face in his shoulder, sobbing and laughing, clutching him tightly to her.

"You're okay. You're safe. You're home," he murmurs, rubbing circles into her back.

After a few moments, when her breathing has calmed and she feels steady again, she lifts her chin to look over his shoulder. May tucks something into her holster. Coulson looks back from where MarVell is lying, and he nods, pressing his mouth into a proud frown. She smiles and leans back, slowly shifting her weight to stand and greet the others. Fitz's face turns almost imperceptibly when he notices her shift, but he quickly leans back when he understands what she's trying to do and helps her stand.

"How is he?" Simmons asks, looking down at MarVell, taking tentative steps forward. Fitz is still holding onto her, and she's happy to lean some of her weight into him.

"He'll live," Coulson says. "How are you, Simmons? It's good to have you back."

She smiles weakly, but looks back at the man on the ground. "He helped me. He - I think he has radiation poisoning."

"We'll get the medical team to take a proper look while he's detained. What do you know about him exactly?"

"He's Kree," Jemma says. She ignores the sharp silence that piece of information brings to the team and pushes forward. "He was very weak while we were -" she glances over at the door. "Even still, he had multiple chances to harm me, but he only ever wanted to be sure I was safe. He - wants to protect Earth."

Coulson shifts uncomfortably. "Was it him that told you the story about -"

"Yes, the Skrull invasion," Jemma remembers, letting out a sigh of relief. "Fitz, thank you for telling them. We need all the time we can get to stop them before it becomes a crisis. MarVell says that as soon as he's up and running he'll be able to help out with locating the- What is it?" She stops, sensing tension.

Fitz grumbles. "Yeah, well I told them about that…"

"What's the problem? Something didn't already happen, did it?" Jemma looks between them.

Coulson clears his throat. "We haven't yet decided whether or not the story holds weight. There's no proof, and there's no reason to believe these guys are trustworthy. We can't simply go by their story and risk diverting all our resources."

"But - I believe we can trust him, sir," Simmons says. "There's more to the story. I can tell you everything he told me. It's long and complicated, but this isn't something we can simply ignore!"

"You need to rest first, Simmons. You've had a lot happen. We can do your debrief when you're ready."

"But Sir-"

Suddenly, MarVell's body begins shaking. The man and woman standing near the cliff face look worried and try to move towards him, but Mac stands in their way.

"He's crashing," Jemma says, rushing down to hold him steady. "Please. We need to help him."

Fitz looks at Coulson. "There's some medical equipment in my pack that might help stabilize him for now," he says, cautiously maneuvering behind May and grabbing the bag from the ground. Coulson nods, watching the two scientists examine the man.

"You're looking for a - a blue pill or - a syringe of some sort," Jemma says, checking MarVell's eyes and searching for a pulse. Fits reaches into the bag. Fumbling through the contents, he's not entirely sure if he has the correct item, not wanting to pull out the wrong thing.

She sighs in exasperation, "Yes, Fitz, the DTPA injector is the right one to grab. Please stop hymning and hawing, and hand it over quickly."

He stares at her a few feet away, pulling out a small injector labelled DTPA from the bag she couldn't have seen, couldn't have known he'd packed. Realizing what she'd said, she furrows her brow, and her breath catches.

"I, uh, right." He looks at her carefully, then shrugs off the moment with a brief smile and scoots over to hand the injector to her. "It's good to have you back," he says. He kneels down to hold the large man steady. She quickly injects the serum into MarVell's neck, counting the seconds until his breath slows, her heart racing with adrenaline.

When the shaking stops, she breathes a sigh of relief and collapses backwards in exhaustion. Not realizing how close Fitz is, she feels the heat of his chest as she accidentally leans back into him. She hears his breath catch and they both stiffen for a moment. Should she sit up again? He brings a hand up to rest on her shoulder, rubbing it warmly. She relaxes back into him, closing her eyes. There was so much they both needed to still say to each other. What was he thinking?

Simmons suddenly winces and grabs the back of her head, sitting up.

"Jemma, are you okay?"

"Yes, sorry. Simply adjusting still I suppose. A little tired."

May steps forward, shifting her weight but only watching with heavily guarded apprehension.

"You should rest now," Coulson says. "You've been through a lot. We'll do your debrief and examination when you wake up."

Simmons looks at Fitz expectantly. He gives her an encouraging smile and helps her up.

* * *

Fitz sits by her bed, watching her chest rise and fall in deep sleep, his hand clutched tightly in hers. The feeling in his arm is starting to go numb from the odd angle, but he doesn't dare move it. He glances over her peaceful face. There's so much he wants to ask her, to tell her about since they last stood in a room alone together. He realizes it's mostly little things that happened that he wanted to share with her at the time. Hunter and Bobbi bickering like idiots. Lincoln being constantly perplexed by the silly things Skye said. Small innovations he tried while working on the new bus that he wanted her input on. Pointless observations he'd made about the Kree stone while studying it.

He sighed. Those things don't matter now, yet they seemed so important at the time, when he couldn't share them. What would he say when she asks what he's been up to? How he was? They had so much in the air between them to talk about, and he realizes he can't even begin to imagine how he can convey the only important thing he had learned during their time apart. The only thing that mattered. More than his work, more than his friends, more than any mission or even his own pride. Her. She was there, next to him, finally. Warm, breathing, safe. That's _all_ that mattered. It would scare her. It scared him, to be honest.

May appears in the doorway, and he looks up, quickly rubbing his nose. "Just making sure she's comfortable," he says, leaning slightly back in his chair.

May meets Fitz's eyes and nods for him to follow her. "You should let her rest," she says. "Follow me. I want to run something by you."

Fitz watches Jemma with shining eyes. He doesn't want to leave her side, but he knows that his being there isn't doing anything particularly useful. He squeezes her hand and pulls the blanket up over her shoulders. She sighs and clutches her now empty fist, smiling softly in her sleep. He resists the urge to brush the hair along her forehead and kiss her temple. He turns and follows May out of the tent.

May pulls out what looks like a bulky silver pistol and lays it on a boulder in front of him outside.

"I found this in South America," she says.

"What sort of vacation were _you_ having?" Fitz grins, raising his eyebrows, trying in vain to lighten mood. She blinks, face blank.

"I've seen enough of that door to have my suspicions. I think the two are connected."

"What, you think the door and this gun have something to do with each other?" Fitz picks up the pistol. It's lighter than he expected.

"The tech looks similar," May says. "You might know best."

Fitz holds it closer, examining the metal and the machinery. "It's definitely made from vibranium," he says. "But…"

"Test it," May says.

Fitz looks at her suspiciously, but raises the pistol out away from the camp, aiming at a tree in the distance. He pulls the trigger. A burst of green light shoots out in a straight line and sinks into the trunk of the tree. The gun grows hot in his hands and he quickly drops it with a yelp.

Where the beam of light strikes, the tree begins to smoke with an eerie mist that glows bright white. He moves closer to inspect the damage. Waving the mist away with his hand, he sees that there's a deep black bottomless hole in the trunk.

"Yeah, they're definitely related," Fitz breathes, looking closer.

The hole quickly fills in with metal, almost like a scab that spreads with translucent rust and then disappears, smoothing the hole back into the original bark like nothing had happened. The wind stops rustling in the leaves.

Fitz drops his mouth open, gawking. "What is that thing?"

"Can you fix it?" May asks stonily.


	6. Shift

**Previously on The Door:**

 _Tensions run high when Mac no longer trusts Rick and Kesia, though Fitz convinces him to keep helping to fix the door in order to get Simmons back. When Coulson and May arrive early to collect them, the Director orders the project shut down. Fitz and Kesia manage to open the door at the last moment._

 _Jemma is able to get herself and MarVell through the door. She and Fitz share a moment of relief to see that they are both safe. Jemma tries to convince Coulson that MarVell is integral to preventing an invasion of the shapeshifting Skrull, when the Kree man starts crashing from radiation poisoning. She and Fitz rush to save his life, but they both start to notice something strange about her as well._

 _While Jemma rests before giving her debrief, May asks Fitz to take a look at the 084 she found while on vacation. It has similar properties to the door they were working on. May asks him to fix it._

* * *

Simmons is surprised by how much she's shaking. They're only words. She's not actually back there, bombarded by emotionally charged images that aren't even real. She'd almost hoped that her debrief would bring some level of closure by getting what she'd experienced out, sharing it so that she would never have to relive the fear and confusion and pain again. It's proving more complicated than that though. It's difficult to maintain eye contact as she speaks, so she stares straight ahead at a spot on the wall. She hugs her arms tightly to her chest to stop the tremors from shaking through her body every time she takes a breath or self-consciously tuck loose strands of hair behind her ears.

"Fascinating," Rick responds to what she says, pacing from the other side of the room. While she slept, Rick and Kesia had been interrogated by Coulson. Apparently what they had said finally made them trustworthy in the Director's eyes, because Rick was invited in to her debrief session to consult, and Kesia was sent to monitor MarVell's recovery - under Mac's watchful eye. She wasn't entirely comfortable sharing her darkest, most confusing moments with a stranger in the room at first, but he listened quietly and nodded along sympathetically to what she said.

Coulson watches her with kindness and patience as she says what she needs to, but never interrupts. She speaks quickly, trying to brush past everything that happened as professionally and succinctly as possible. The images are thrown back into her mind just the same. _Fitz screaming as she falls back from the plane. His soft smile as they take their last slow breaths under the ocean. The small child with his eyes and her dark hair._ When she comes to the end, waiting by the cliff to see if the door would ever re-open, Coulson stands and rests his good hand on her shoulder, and says nothing. She smiles at him quickly before returning her gaze to the spot on the wall she's been so focused on.

Rick moves closer and sits in a chair across from her, cutting into her line of sight. "I'd like to thank you for helping MarVell," he leans in. "I can't imagine how confused and afraid you must have been. Your trust and compassion are the only things that brought him back. Now that he's here we actually have a shot at preventing this invasion."

Simmons nods into her hands and lets a long shaky breath escape her lips. She can sense him trying to catch her eyes, but she's feeling suddenly overly exposed.

Coulson gives her shoulder a squeeze. "You said that he's Kree?" he asks the other man. Simmons is grateful for the change of topic.

"Yes. He is," Rick shifts back in his chair casually. "That's really his own long story, but I can give you the basics." He stands and starts pacing again. "He was sent here to investigate the emergence of some biological weapons. It was a project the Kree ran thousands of years ago that involved experiments on humans."

"Inhumans. We're… familiar with the story," Coulson nods, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Right. Well, he worked with us, and we came across a few of them, but he… had a change of heart. He met someone-"

Simmons quirks her head, "Carol Danvers?"

"Right. You've heard of her?" Rick looks bemused.

Simmons closes her mouth firmly and stays still. She hasn't heard of her, but the name somehow popped into her head.

"Well, we all worked together," Rick shrugs, "and they became close, her and MarVell. We knew him by a different name at the time. He confided in her why he was there, and she convinced him that Earth was... worth protecting."

"What got him stuck in the Negative Zone?" Coulson asks.

"The Kree realized he wasn't playing their game anymore. He was too sympathetic to us... they refused to send him back, dismissing what he said about the Skrulls. They sent him there as a form of prison."

Simmons shudders. "It's an extremely effective prison."

"Yeah," Rick says. She can feel his eyes on her again, examining her. She immediately regrets speaking. "Those flashbacks you mentioned are what really fascinate me, though."

She tenses. She didn't describe all of the images, or in much detail, especially the ones she knew were memories. It felt too personal. She doesn't want to go into it now. "They weren't always flashbacks," she deflects. "Often they were simply different versions of what might have happened. Sort of like... nightmares, played out on film."

"That's what I mean, though," Rick sits on the edge of the chair across from her again, speaking faster. "I believe what you were seeing was actually alternate universes," he says, excitement welling up in his voice. "Different realities that were picked up by the door we were working on from our side, that was just misfiring and honing in on you. Almost like a radio searching for the right station."

Jemma considers what he's said and finally meets his eyes. She recognizes that drive of puzzling out the unknown, of putting meaning to a theory. It's all too familiar to her, yet suddenly carries such a different weight when she's actually lived those theories herself. She swallows hard. "You mean those images… what I saw. It was all real?"

He nods. "As real as this universe, only changed by-"

"Different decisions," she grimaces. "Decisions I made." She remembers the blank look of compliance on Fitz' face in the Hydra base from one such reality. Her stomach drops. All those events that apparently really happened somewhere, some time, were because of small things she might have done differently at any moment. "Oh," she breathes. Her head starts to pound.

She can hear all the questions Rick wants to ask hanging in the air, about her glimpses into alternate universes. She can hear the concern Coulson tries to find a voice for. She can feel the darkness start to seep in around her again and she suddenly wants to shut it all out and run. She folds herself in half in her seat and presses her palms into her eyes, shaking violently.

"Simmons-?"

Remembering herself, she grasps the back of her neck and shakes her head. She sits back up, brushing the hair out of her face as though nothing happened. "No, no I'm feeling fine, sorry." She breathes in deeply and pastes a smile on her face, regaining her composure. "Just my head. Where- ah, where did Fitz get off to, then?"

"He's with May checking out that 084 she came across," Coulson says, narrowing his eyes at her with concern. "You should really get looked at first, Jemma. That headache keeps bothering you." She smiles faintly, embarrassed. She opens her mouth to protest, but Coulson motions for her to stand. "I'm taking you to Kesia to have her examine you now. No arguments," he lightly scolds her. "We want to make sure there are no lasting side-effects from your trip," he smiles kindly. "Fitz will find you when he's done."

Jemma nods and smiles back, eyes sliding back to that spot on the wall before she's escorted out.

* * *

Fitz shuffles through the bag May brought to the Quinn Jet. He'd managed to get the casing of the gun opened, but now he wanted to actually poke around inside the workings of it to see what the condensed power-source looked like. He finds the tool he's after, and carefully brings it closer to the glowing wires. After making a small adjustment, the gun sparks. He jumps and drops it on the table in front of him with a small yelp. His hands go to his waist, and he steps aside, watching the gun start to mist from what he considers a safe distance.

He looks up at May who's watching him with arms crossed over her chest. She doesn't move. He grins bashfully, trying to ease the silence. "So... How's Andrew?"

May raises an eyebrow.

He approaches the table again and tests the heat of the gun's handle with a finger. He glances back to her. "Must have liked Rio to have stayed so long. Never been myself. Any nice restaurants you'd recommend if we ever stop by?"

May stares stonily ahead, almost imperceptibly rolling her eyes. Fitz sighs and tests the weight of the gun in his hands, pulling it closely to his face to examine it again. He makes another small adjustment, waits, then puts it all back on the table, looking over to May in contemplation.

"What do you make of the whole alien invasion thing anyways? It's hard to get a good read on that Rick fellow. Do you believe what he's saying about MarVell and them?"

May lets out an audible sigh. "I'm sure there's some level of truth to their story. Can you please focus?"

"Right. Sorry. Just checking the, um…" he picks the gun back up and points to the wires. He's met once again with silence and a more pointed look. He focuses his attention back on the gun, twisting the screwdriver into its crannies.

"What do you think this thing does?" He asks after a few minutes, following one of the wires with his eyes to its connecting point. "I highly doubt that it opens little tiny portals between worlds," he chuckles nervously. "But it does seem to have an effect on organic matter. That scabbing effect is just…" he looks up at May with a wide grin, "…freaky!"

She blinks, unamused. "How long will this take?"

He tucks his head back down to his work. "Hard to gauge, really." He rolls his own eyes at how particularly unresponsive May is being today. This is what she's supposed to be like relaxed? "You might want to have Simmons take a look at it when she's up. See what she has to say. I can go check on her if you like."

"She'll come when she's ready," May says.

"In that case, it might be best to wait until we're back at the lab. Honestly, with proper equipment, we can run better tests on it, and-"

May suddenly snaps. "No. This is something we need to do here."

He bobs up at her quick response. "Okay. But… why?" He cocks his head to the side, thinking for a moment, leaning against the table. "Oh, are you thinking because of the vibranium that's here?"

"We need the access. It's integral," May turns away from him and cracks her knuckles.

He smirks to himself and looks back to the gun. "Yeah, but if it's an 084, we don't know nearly enough about it or the effects it will have." He pokes around the wires again. "It actually looks quite dangerous."

"It's not dangerous. It's the future," May spits out, almost angrily.

Fitz freezes, mouth gaping in surprise at the dark shift in her tone. He looks over to May suspiciously, "...the... Future." He deadpans. If she's pulling a prank, it's particularly poor timing for it, but she never has been easy to read.

She moves closer to him, eyes narrowing, almost whispering. "Do you know how powerful we'll be when this works? We'll create entire armies with superior strength and un _imaginable_ power." Her eyes light up with a hunger he's never seen there before.

"I, uh… you haven't really been keeping track of Skye at all, have you?" He starts backing away with small steps. May smirks at him. "Sorry, Daisy! I mean Daisy," he jokes nervously. He fumbles behind him and puts the gun back down on the table, freeing his hands.

"Pick that up, you're not done yet," May says sternly.

"I should really go check to see how Simmons is doing," he says, trying to maneuver himself closer to the door.

May steps into his path, pointedly blocking the exit. She lets out a short laugh. "Even you must have noticed it begin to take effect." Fitz looks around him, trying to get his bearings, looking for other exits. "Your little girlfriend has gone through something of a change, and it proves that this technology is the catalyst we've been waiting for. You're the one that figured out how to fix it. How to create the Super Skrulls we need."

"- May?"

She grins. "Catching on, are we?" She blinks again and when she opens her eyes, they are a bright yellow. Her skin swells and changes to a sickly green colour. With the same hair and same clothes, the effect is particularly alarming. "Now please, let's keep this simple. Stand still," she says, pushing a remote from her pocket. A vibrant light shines down above Fitz's head and around his feet in a bright circle. Without thinking, he leaps away, blinded, jumping to the side and stumbling into the table.

She grabs his shoulder to pull him up, but he reaches over and grasps her arm, swinging with all his might to get her off of him. She flips into the swing and lands comfortably on the other side of the table. He stands and squares himself to her, bringing his fists up in preparation. She laughs. "There's really no need for this. We both know how it will end."

"I've been practicing," he says sternly, trying to keep his voice steady.

She leaps over the table towards him, and he takes a deep breath, trying to calm his mind and remember all of Bobbi's training.

* * *

"You appear to be in perfect health, Jemma." Kesia unstraps the blood pressure monitor from Simmons' arm and smiles at her. "I can keep giving you pain medication for the headaches if you wish, but I believe they are merely induced by stress. Once you are able to relax, they will go away."

"That's quite a relief," Jemma says, hopping off of the table. "Though I sometimes wonder if I'll ever be able to relax again."

"You went through a difficult ordeal," Kesia nods. "Be kind to yourself. Surround yourself with people you can trust. It will get easier."

Jemma smiles thinly. She lingers in the doorway for a minute, sifting through thoughts. MarVell is lying in the corner of the room, and Kesia goes to adjust the blankets around him. The particular way her hands take care with what she does tinges the air with a sort of sadness.

"You've been very kind," Simmons blurts out. "To Fitz as well, it seems. Thank you."

The woman turns and her dark eyes crinkle around the edges. "You mean a lot to him, you know. That man would move mountains for you if he had to."

"Yes. That's what concerns me," Jemma twists her hands together. "He put himself in a lot of danger to get me back. It's not fair to him, is it?"

"Fairness has little to do with it," Kesia sighs. "We do not always have control over what our heart wants. Love is not an easy beast to tame." Jemma feels a blush creep up the back of her neck. She opens her mouth to protest, but the other woman speaks over her, meeting her eyes knowingly. "It will always get us in trouble one way or another," she smiles sadly. As she turns, Simmons notices Kesia's eyes linger over MarVell's form, and shifts uncomfortably, pain pricking the back of her head.

"Maybe the safe route is what's best for everyone in the end," Jemma says. "Adventure is fine, but the cost is too great."

Kesia's eyes flit back over and search the younger woman's face. Jemma drops her gaze, deciding she has a lot to think about on her own. "Thank you for all your help," she says firmly. She offers a friendly smile and steps out of the medical tent into the warm sun before more can be said.

"You can stand guard again, Mac. All clear." She slips quickly away to avoid the big man, wanting to be alone with her thoughts, to sort out exactly what she's feeling. Turning the corner, someone races past at full speed. It takes her a moment to recognize the gait.

"Fitz?" She calls out.

He stops, panting, and turns towards her. "Jemma?! Are you alright? H-How are you?" He walks quickly over to her, but stops himself before he gets too close, clearly debating whether or not to reach out to her. He curls his own hands into fists instead and shoves them in his pockets.

"I've just had my physical examination," she says, partially amused, but mostly concerned at how frazzled he is. "Clean bill of health. Are _you_ alright?"

"Yeah, no no," he waves off. "I was just with May, and-" he looks behind him and his face grows suddenly white. "Sorry, it's nothing." He turns back to her and smiles, shaking his head. "Realized I got sort of buried in that project and wanted to, ah…" he looks down at his feet, scuffing a shoe in the dirt. "Just wanted to come see if you were up yet, how you were doing." He lifts his eyes to hers shyly, smiling softly. She smiles back despite herself, ignoring the throbbing pain behind her eyes, and trying to slow the rhythm that look of his has suddenly set her heart to.

He takes a small step forward. "Actually there's something I need to- ah," he rubs one of his ears, searching for words. "Um. Want to go for a walk? Just us? It's actually really beautiful out here."

She searches his face. "Yeah? I hadn't really noticed the view. I mean I haven't been here long enough to notice I guess."

"Yeah," he smiles, bringing his shoulders up around his neck awkwardly and looking down for a second. "One thing this all has taught me, is you have to appreciate all the beautiful things you've got while you have the chance."

Simmons bites her lip to keep from smiling. What a line. She's not sure if she should let herself feel flattered, or if she should say something before this all gets out of hand. He takes a sharp breath and suddenly reaches down and laces her fingers in his own. She swallows, enjoying the feeling of his warm hands on hers. "Come," he says, winking at her. She can't help but let her smile grow wide as he pulls her to walk along beside him.

They stroll along the dirt path that winds along the river. Her heart is hammering in her chest in a way that's far too distracting for her to think straight. She should be rational about all this, but every time he squeezes her hand, all thoughts escape her.

"So, um. What was the 084 then?" She asks, hoping her voice sounds as confident as she does not feel.

"Really strange actually. May thinks it has something to do with the door," he shrugs. She tries hard to focus on what he's saying, but her mind keeps wandering to the images she saw of him trying in vain to put that play-castle together in another reality. Could they ever survive a quiet life like that now that they've had a taste of the excitement the world could offer? "Hard to tell really. I may have you take a look at it later." He literally crossed the world to save her. Crossed worlds. She'd seen him thrive in that quiet life they could have lead, but she's not sure she could ever really be happy with just that anymore. She'd always want more, to help more, to do everything in her power to help save the world. And he would continue to put himself in danger if it meant being near her. It wasn't fair to him.

"You're not listening to a word I'm saying, are you?" He stops, raising his eyebrows and looking at her with a mocking grin.

"Hm?" She says. "Sorry, I must be a little out of sorts still." Shaking her head, she smiles apologetically at him.

His eyes roam over her face, and she can feel a hot blush creep into her cheeks. He shouldn't be having this much of an effect on her, should he? He was the same old Fitz. Same clumsy, antisocial, grumpy idiot that bickered with her and followed her on her dangerous adventures. She should have nothing to worry about, really. She would just avoid looking into his eyes until she got herself under control. And avoid looking at his mouth. And his hands.

Much to her chagrin, he quirks his mouth into a mischievous smile, making it pointedly difficult to ignore. "You haven't had dinner yet, have you? We never did-"

"Fitz-" She shuts her eyes tightly, taking a deep breath. She turns sharply away before she can lose her thread of rational thought. "What were you doing while I was away?"

He pauses, and she can sense his nervousness bubble back up. "I uh… helped draw up the plans for the new bus…" he swallows. His false confidence melts away in an instant. He looks so vulnerable. She almost feels bad, but she has to know. She stares at him, daring him to tell the truth. He sighs and looks up, "To be honest, I spent a lot of time studying that stone thing that, well… you know." He shakes their joined hands back and forth nervously. "It's a tough nut to crack, but I did learn a few interesting things about it, you'll be happy to hear."

She lets go of his hand and takes a step away. "Coulson says you refused to leave the room. That you tried to get sucked up into it too. That you _succeeded_." She's visibly upset now.

He looks at her desperately, mouth open, searching for words. Finally, he shuts his eyes and speaks quietly. "You were gone, Jemma."

She bites her lip, but then lets out a huff. "So it's true. Honestly, Fitz, of all the dangerous and irresponsible-"

"I'm not sorry," he says quickly, cutting her off. "You were _gone_. No one had any idea where you were or how to get you back, so I- I figured it out." He looks up and holds her eyes with his own. His voice grows husky, and she finds it extremely difficult to breathe. "It's the only thing that mattered. _You're_ the only-"

"-Don't you dare say it, Fitz." She shuts her eyes tightly and turns her face away from his. "You know how many lives you put at risk. The team, the entire base. Mack. Yourself."

"Yeah, well I'd do it again," he steps closer. "Every time, Jemma, I'd follow you. No matter how great the risk." She can feel his breath on her cheek. The unashamed honesty in his voice is what scares her. She slowly opens her eyes. Realizing how close he's become, she stares at his mouth as he leans closer. Remembering herself, she replays what he just said. If only she could focus on what he was actually thinking. Willing her emotions to grow cold, she turns to start walking away.

"Jemma, please-" He grabs her hand and pulls her back to him. For a moment, she lets him. One hand slips to her waist, and the other slides softly across her jawline to grip the back of her neck. They're a breath apart before she comes back to her senses and pushes against his chest. He stumbles backwards and looks up in shock, but before he can pull her back in, she slaps him hard across the face.

"That's not your call to make." She glares and runs back down the path away from him.

* * *

Fitz grips the arms of the chair until his knuckles are white. He's shaking all over, unable to wipe away the fear and anger welling up in his eyes. He wants to look away from the grainy electronic screen placed in front of him, but he can't. He's forced to watch, terrified, as Jemma takes his hand. He watches as she gets pulled in closer than he's ever allowed himself to get to her. He can almost feel the sting as she slaps his face. Not _his_ face, he tells himself, the Skrull that stole his face. But she doesn't know that. He's helpless to prevent any of it, to warn her. Bruised and tied to the chair, hidden away, trying to calm his ragged breaths, her words still ring in his ears.

"Damn it!" May curses into a set of comms. "Stand down. Do not engage. We'll have to fall back to plan B." She finally shuts down the screen and he can feel the relief flood through him briefly. "Why are these human emotions so unpredictable," she asks herself. Turning, she laughs, seeing him struggle against his bonds. "I'm sure you're asking the very same question. That must have been difficult to watch." Fitz sets his mouth in a firm line and refuses to look at her.

"Before you second guess what you just saw, let me assure you that our technology is extremely advanced. Not only are we able to replicate a body's form, but we can duplicate memories. Emotions. Everything that makes you who you are," she says, stepping closer, taunting him. "Having my associate Kallax in your place to collect information is as authentic as if you had been there yourself," she smiles sweetly. "Not even your Jemma will suspect a thing until it's too late." May reaches forward and traces a finger down his cheek, wiping away the wet streak that finally trailed down his face.

He tries to flinch away. "Is this supposed to convince me to help you?"

"It's supposed to be a demonstration. A warning." May licks her finger with a smug grin. "You have nowhere to go, no one to search for you. No one even knows you're missing. You have two options: continue watching your life be dismantled by another, or help fix the artifact I brought you and be rewarded once the invasion is complete. We may even consider letting you keep _her_ as your reward."

Fitz clenches his jaw tightly, breathing in and out, trying to suppress the rage he can do nothing with. He looks at the gun on the table, the haphazard wires glowing in the darkness. His eyes flit to the blank screen in front of him. "I won't help you," he says firmly.

May sighs. "Ever the hero," she says. "We'll see for sure soon enough." She suddenly swings her fist out, causing a flash of pain behind his eyes before he loses consciousness.


	7. Covert

**Previously on The Door:**

 _During her debrief, Rick explains that Simmons had been witnessing glimpses of alternate universes through a malfunction of the door they'd been working on. Realizing it was her decisions that created all those horrible alternate worlds, she resolves to push Fitz away to keep him safe._

 _While Fitz works on fixing the 084 with May on the Quinn Jet, he becomes suspicious of her intentions. Too late, he discovers that she has been replaced by a shapeshifting Skrull. When he fails to escape, they try to force him to help their cause by making him watch his own Skrull-double get closer to Jemma. He has mixed emotions when Simmons shuts his advances down hard._

* * *

Mac is tired. Not just the kind of tired where he would close his eyes and succumb to sleep if he had the chance. He's tired in the most frustrating of ways. He's fed up. Though he can't explain why exactly, his instincts are telling him that something strange is going on at the camp. The surprise of the dimension-hopping doorway was not great, but adding another alien into the mix - a Kree no less - was definitely crossing a line. Now he's expected to trust these new people? As much as he's happy that things appeared to be working out with Simmons, that she returned relatively unscathed, something about the whole situation is rubbing him the wrong way.

He sits in stony silence in the corner of the medical tent. The Kree is in the other corner, still unconscious. Kesia dotes over him.

"He's not blue," Mac notes grumpily, breaking the long silence.

"No," Kesia says. "He's a different race. White Kree. The same in every other regard, though."

Mac grunts in acknowledgement but says nothing else. He didn't realise there was such a thing as different races of Kree, but it makes sense. Enough. Still aliens, though. Kesia turns away and doesn't try to pursue conversation, which suits him just fine. He feels better just sitting here as a guard in case the Kree wakes up and tries anything funny.

There's a slight rustle at the door, and Mac turns sharply towards it, standing, his nerves very much on edge. Fitz slinks into the side of the room quietly. At Mac's alert stance, he grins sheepishly. "Hi Mac. Didn't think you'd still be here."

Mac allows himself to relax, rolling his shoulders to release some tension. "Nowhere else I'd rather be," he says wryly. "I thought you'd be off with Simmons reuniting or something."

"Yeah, well I'm not." Fitz says a little too firmly.

He doesn't miss the slight darkening of his friend's expression. "What happened?"

The scientist blushes a deep crimson almost instantly. "Nothing," he mumbles, then quickly changes the subject. "Actually, I came here to check if the Kree is awake yet."

Mac gives Fitz a long look, but knows not to press the Simmons matter when he's in one of his moods like this. He looks over to the bed in the corner. "Nope. Still out like a light," he gestures.

Fitz lets a flash of irritation cross his face. "Fine." He turns instead to Kesia. "Question for you then. How do we get access to more vibranium here?"

The woman presses her mouth together in concern. "Why do we need access to more vibranium?"

"Just working on something with Agent May. She thinks we'll need some more."

"Don't tell me you're working on _another_ project here?" Mac whirls around. "I thought we were headed back as soon as possible!"

"Well _you_ were the one that said we should be more helpful, as Shield Agents," Fitz folds his arms over his chest, frowning.

"Yeah, but as a Shield Agent, I'm starting to feel like something fishy is going on here," Mac retorts, lowering his voice so only Fitz can hear. "The sooner we get out of this place, the better."

"Just calm down and sit tight a bit longer," Fitz says patronizingly. "Kesia, can we have a _private_ word, actually?" He shoots Mac a look. Mac looks between them in disbelief. When neither offers any more information, he lifts his arms up in defeat. He grumbles and turns on the spot. Fine. He can play along. If he sits around any longer he's going to start hitting things anyways. Mac steps out to wait in front of the tent, alone, incredibly less happy than before.

Tapping his foot, he tries not to overhear the hushed tones on the other side of the tent's wall. What project would possibly cause their team to stay in this unknown place with these less than trust-worthy people, he's not sure, but it's making him all the more tired. Stewing in his own frustrations, Mac almost doesn't notice the small woman stroll up to him. Wringing her hands, she clears her throat again. "Mac?"

He has enough control not to jump, but he's still startled. "Simmons! Sorry. What's up?"

She gives him an apologetic smile, realizing she's caught him off guard. "Do you know if MarVell is awake yet? I was hoping to have a brief word with him."

"Everyone wants a word with the goddamned Alien!" He lifts his arms in frustration, starting to pace.

"Oh?" She looks oddly shaken.

"Fitz was just here asking too," Mac explains. "He's in with Kesia now, discussing some other project he's roped us into."

"Oh," Simmons says quietly. "Well in that case I had better give them space…" Shrinking back, she starts to turn away.

"Hold on," Mac stops her, giving her a long, careful look. "What happened between you two? You were gone for a while. I thought by now you'd be - "

"No! No, nothing happened," she cuts him off. "We were just…" Simmons trails off, looking very flushed, and shrugs a shoulder.

Mac sighs audibly. He'd hoped that the only good thing to come of this whole mess would be that the two of them would have at least had their reunion or whatever. _They were worse than Hunter and Bobbi._

Simmons' head snaps up. Her eyes go wide and she splutters. "That's not fair. We're _nothing_ like Hunter and Bobbi!"

He turns to look at her, and then snorts, shaking his head. "No one said you were." _At least Hunter and Bobbi gave themselves some relief from all the tension once in a while._

" _Tension!"_ Simmons coughs. _"_ Well that's just - there's no _tension_ between us, not like _that_. We're just - It's…"

"Ah, Simmons?" Mac stares at her pointedly.

"What? I-" she freezes. "Oh."

"I never said any of that."

Her eyes go wide, but she tries to cover up her reaction with a quick smile. "No, of course, I was simply…" she casually tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Simmons…" He looks carefully at her, and then closes his eyes, drawing on all of the patience he has left. "Can you… Lord help me, can you tell me what I'm thinking right now?"

"I-" she starts, but realizes there's no way to think or talk herself out of this one. She lowers her head. "I don't think it works exactly like that."

Mac crosses his large arms over his chest and glares at her. "Why don't you tell me exactly how it works then?"

Simmons brings a palm to her forehead and smooths back the hair out of her face. She lets out a sigh. "Ever since I got back I've been getting these headaches and… well, I thought I was going mad!" She smiles nervously at Mac, but he simply raises an eyebrow at her, prompting her to go on. Her smile slips away, and she continues. "I thought it would go away, that it was an environmental side-effect, similar to the visions in the Negative Zone. But," she looks up, defeated. "Those visions have all but stopped, and this just keeps getting stronger." She starts gesturing as she talks, her mind racing. "It must be something that happened when I came through the doorway. There are simply no studies of the effects crossing dimensions will have on human anatomy, and the methods used were particularly experimental, so perhaps- "

"Simmons," Mac says slowly. "Just get to the point, please."

She wrings her hands together. "I suppose I've been getting… basic glimpses or images of what people are… thinking," she winces. "I don't think it's mind _reading_ exactly, not yet anyways. But I can sort of tell what people are… well, thinking _about_ … For example, when Rick asked if-"

Mac rubs his eyes with one hand and holds the other up to stop her. "You know, I really don't want all the details," he chuckles dryly. "This world just keeps getting stranger and stranger." He was going to need a long vacation when this was all over. With a lot of beer. He looks back up suddenly with a mischievous grin, realizing something. "Hold on. Seriously though, how has none of this helped you sort things out with Fitz?"

Simmons' mouth drops open in indignation. "That's _hardly_ \- I would _never_! Well… I -" she drops her hands to her sides in a huff. "To be honest, it doesn't always work when I'd like. Besides, I doubt I would even _want_ to know what he's thinking…"

"Simmons," Mac chuckles. "The _rest of the world_ knows what he's thinking about you, and they're not actual mind-readers. It's about time you got on board."

"I really don't think-" Without warning, she stumbles before she can finish her thought, someone bumping into her from behind. She hadn't realized she was standing in front of the doorway, and as Fitz stepped back outside without looking properly, he walked right into her.

Regaining their balance and righting themselves awkwardly, they both freeze as though they've been caught. They stare at each other uncomfortably for a few moments, and when Mac lets out an amused grunt, they leap apart. Mac rolls his eyes. _Yep, no tension there whatsoever._ Simmons' eyes flash to him in irritation.

Fitz appears to have an inner debate with himself, and then steps forward. "Jemma, I-" He reaches a hand out to her, but she quickly jumps back, away from his touch, with a nearly imperceptible flash of fear in her eyes.

She turns away from him, trying to cover her blatant snub. "Thanks for your help Mac," she says a little too brightly. "I think I'd better go check on something," she turns and briskly walks off down the path.

"Jemma!" Fitz calls after her, but stays rooted to the spot. He lets his arms fall to his sides, and scuffs his foot in the dirt. "What did you two talk about, then?"

Mac raises his hands in front of him in defense. "Hey, don't put me in the middle of this. You two have to sort out your own issues."

Fitz frowns. His hand goes to his ear and he closes his eyes tightly. "Right." He then turns and walks away in the opposite direction of Simmons without a word.

Mac stands on the dirt path alone, and shakes his head in amused frustration. "I swear, it's like herding cats with those two," he says to himself. He goes back into the tent and sits down next to Kesia who is once again silently tending to MarVell. This could be a long wait.

* * *

Jemma pauses and looks behind her to make sure Fitz hasn't followed. The dirt path is empty and silent. She lets out a sigh of relief. What's happening?

If she's not careful, she'll really begin to start losing her mind. She'd been trying to ignore these glimpses into other peoples' thoughts since she got back, but her conversation with Mac really did bring into sharp focus something she couldn't deny. She was no longer simply intuiting how people were finishing their sentences. There was part of her that was actually seeing into their minds, things she couldn't have known on her own. First with the DTPA injector, then with Carol Danvers...

If she could figure out what triggers it, or how to control it, that might be useful. As it is, though, this new ability worked sporadically at best, and imprecisely the rest of the time. More terrifying is what she had just seen in Fitz' mind, though. She's not sure what to make of it, but it sends chills down her spine. Why would he be thinking of himself bruised and tied to a chair? And pleased about it? She shivers.

Looking at her surroundings, she finds herself in front of one of the small tents that make up the site. She glances around her nonchalantly and quietly slips through the entrance.

A cot is in the corner of the small room, and a table full of papers. She moves over to the table and shuffles through them, not sure what she's looking for. There isn't a lot there. Mostly scientific articles, which she would love to pour over if she had the time. Some newspaper clippings, mostly of high-ranking officials. She picks one up and looks closely at it. It would only make sense to have this information at hand if they were preparing to fight the Skrulls, right? There was no reason to believe the invasion would have already...

Something nearby clangs, making her jump. Heart beating, Jemma listens for a moment and then pokes her head out of the tent. The wind had picked up and tossed a loose piece of aluminium-foil, but otherwise the coast was clear. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she slips out of the tent again. She makes it a few paces before someone taps her on the shoulder, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin.

"Looking for something, Simmons?"

"Oh! Sir, you startled me!" She doubles over, trying to catch her breath.

Coulson raises an eyebrow but doesn't hide his amused expression. "I think Rick went to go check on MarVell, if you needed to ask him something."

"Right, good. I was just there, actually. Must have just missed him!" Jemma laughs uncomfortably. Coulson doesn't put words to his question, but simply looks back at the tent and then pointedly at her. "I was just taking a bit of a look around," she says airily. "Getting to know the place. Find my bearings and all that."

He gives her a look that clearly says he doesn't buy what she's saying, but he plays along either way. "Did you find Fitz? I think he's been looking for you."

"Oh, yes," she says. "In fact I only just-" she stops. The space behind her eyes starts to prick, and her hand immediately goes to her forehead.

"Everything okay?"

She considers for a moment before answering. Perhaps she should stop ignoring these headaches and just experiment a little... She closes her eyes tightly, playing it off as a wince of pain, and concentrates. Darkness swims around her, but then an image starts to appear. All she sees is the Quinn Jet and a tinge of either anxiety or anger. Odd.

She opens her eyes again and arranges her face into a smile. "Of course," she says, waving off his concern for her. "Ready to be home soon is all."

"I'm afraid it may be a while still," Coulson smiles tightly. "May's found something worth investigating here. But don't worry, we'll get you back home soon enough."

"Anything I can help with?" She asks brightly.

Coulson looks a little distracted. "I think it's best if you lay low and try to relax. I'll let you know if we need you for anything, but I think we've got it covered for now."

Jemma nods. "In that case, I'm off to continue my stroll. I'll let you know if I see anything interesting."

Coulson grins at her and turns down the path. "Stay safe, Jemma. No adventuring."

"Right, sir. It's the boring life for me!" She smiles and watches him walk away down the path. When she can no longer see him, her smile drops. He wasn't acting suspicious, and yet...

Making an executive decision, she heads straight to the Quinn Jet. If only to ease her mind, it's worth it to check things out. At the very least she'll be able to use the comms to get hold of Skye, and see how she had been during her absence.

The back of the jet is already open when she gets there. Coulson must have just come from the jet, which explains why it was so fresh in his mind.

"Hello?" She calls out, just to be safe. "Anyone here? It's just me... Jemma..."

No one answers, yet she still feels unsettled. She looks over her shoulder and steps carefully up the ramp of the plane. There's a table in the middle of the main area sitting slightly askew. She nudges the corner of it, placating herself by making it line up correctly with the wall. Her eyebrows knit together. There aren't normally tables set up in here, are there?

Something catches her eye, and she leans down to the floor. It's a small pile of ash. She dips her finger into it and examines it carefully. There doesn't seem to be anything particularly unusual about it. She sighs. She was being paranoid. Dusting her hands off, she walks over to the controls of the plane.

Sitting down, she tells herself it's a good idea. She reaches out a hand to the dials, but hesitates. She quirks her head to the side, afraid she's heard something rustling behind her. After a minute of silence, she takes a deep breath, trying to shake off her nerves. She quickly dials in the number and waits, drumming her finger tips on the console impatiently.

"Simmons?!" When her friend's face appears on the monitor, she lets out a big sigh of relief.

"Skye," Jemma smiles widely.

"It's Daisy now actually," she says automatically with a grin. "But oh my God, Simmons! Are you okay?" Her face searches for an emotion to settle on, flitting between happiness, concern, confusion, and relief. "I heard there was some mission to Africa to get Fitz back. He's been obsessed over finding you, but I had no idea his hair-brained scheme actually worked! Where were you? Are you hurt? Do I need to come kick some Kree butt?" The words rush out of her in one jumbled stream.

Jemma can't help but smile, but she motions cautiously with one hand to quiet her friend down. "I'm fine, really, for the most part," she says. "Just a bit… rattled I suppose. Please try to keep it down, I don't know how much time I have."

"Is everything okay over there?"

"I-" Jemma's smile freezes. "I'm not sure…"

"Coulson and May got there in one piece though, right?"

"Well, yes…"

"Then I'm sure you guys can handle yourselves," Skye says matter-of-factly. "Wait," Her face suddenly brightens slyly. "Is it Fitz? Did he try something? Did he get fresh with you? Did you _let_ him?"

"Skye!" Jemma feels her face grow hot with embarrassment. Was everyone going to comment on this?

"Daisy," her friend retorts, looking rather pleased with herself.

Jemma rolls her eyes. " _Please_ , it's nothing like that. I'm being serious."

"So am I." The impish grin on her face spreads, but it drops at the look of genuine concern on Simmons' face.

"Honestly though," Jemma says lowering her voice. "There's something really _strange_ going on here. Where I was, there was this other …er… man…" Skye raises her eyebrow and Jemma rubs her eyes. "It's a really long story and I don't have time to go into all of it, but," Jemma takes a big breath. Might as well get it all out in one go. "Suffice it to say, he's trying to stop a group of shape-shifting aliens called the Skrull from taking over the Earth by doubling people, and he wants our help."

Skye - Daisy - stares blankly ahead, clearly debating whether or not to take this information at face value or not. "Er, listen Simmons, I know you went through a lot and all…"

"I _know_ how crazy it sounds, but please trust me," Jemma says. "I think… well, that is… I have reason to believe that these Skrull got a bit closer than we anticipated."

"…Okay." Skye nods slowly, clearly deciding to trust her friend. "What do you need?"

Jemma smiles appreciatively. "I just know I'd feel better if we had some back-up. Even just a few more pairs of eyes to make sure everything is fine here," she says. "If you can spare anyone, that is. It would be great to see you sooner, and it looks like we're stuck here for a little while working on some project. I also may need a few pointers on… some recent developments." Jemma looks at her hands.

"Say no more. I'm in." Skye grins with firm a nod. "Just tell me where to point this plane and we'll be there before you know it."

"Thank you," Jemma breathes, relief flooding her. "I'm patching through our coordinates now, and - Oh!"

The screen suddenly cuts out with a spark. Simmons pushes a few of the buttons on the console, but nothing goes through. "Well that's strange," she says to herself. She starts to turn, but hears a big smack. It's not until she feels the white-hot pain on the back of her skull and the sensation of collapsing back into unconsciousness that she understands someone else was on the jet with her.

* * *

"But we're out of officers," a voice echoes down the hallway.

Twisting his face in chagrin, Fitz comes to the conclusion that it's rather strange hearing his own voice from far away. Did he really sound like that?

Fitz is lying flat on his back in the cell, knees up and feet planted. His arms are above his head, firmly secured in cuffs that are chained to the wall. He's been here for hours, he supposes, though there is no real light source to properly guess what time of day it is. After being knocked out, he'd woken up in this sparse, metallic cell. His mind was a continuous buzz, trying to figure out where he could have been transported to, how long it must have taken, whether or not anyone at the camp could have noticed something suspicious yet, and if there were any way he could figure out of escaping.

"I was our last Shifter," his voice says again, sounding irritated. " _You_ made the last-minute decision to put me in the field. There are no more cells!"

"I don't need to defend my actions to you," May's voice joins in the conversation. "It was a tactical judgement call, and I stand by it. His position has proven useful."

May. Fitz frowns, mentally berating himself for missing the clues. Were there even many clues to have noticed, though? The Skrull said herself that they duplicate everything about a person, including their memories and emotions. He wondered briefly how the Skrull were able to keep the different identities straight, having essentially another person overriding their personality while keeping to their own mission. He supposed this was merely what it meant to be a spy, just on a far more... invasive level. He shuddered. It was too violating to imagine what his double was doing on his behalf. He wondered who else had been doubled. Was it just May and him? How far back did this doubling thing start? Was everyone on the base still who they appeared to be?

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud shuffling noise. They were coming closer, and there was another person being dragged along with them, by the sounds of it.

"Just throw her in there." They're right outside his cell. He sits up straight. "At the very least we can use her as leverage until the others arrive."

"Won't the camp be suspicious that she's missing?" Fitz' heart starts beating faster. Not Jemma?

"We'll have to go do some damage control. Come up with something believable, a lover's quarrel or whatever." Fitz shoots a glare at the door, unable to protest against the idea. "We need that vibranium, and there won't be much time to prepare. She's alerted her team, so they should already be on the way." Fitz smiles to himself. _That-a girl._ "I'm making the call. We need reinforcements."

"In the mean time we can at least remove MarVell from the equation before the others arrive. Then it will be time to see if this artifact really works."

The door finally opens with a long metallic creak, and Fitz prepares himself as best he can. He watches his own body holding an unconscious Jemma in his arms, almost tenderly at first. When the Skrull double catches him watching, though, he unceremoniously dumps her limp form on the floor with a snicker and a sneer before walking away. Unable to do anything else, Fitz glowers.

May reaches down and secures Simmons' hands with the cuffs that are along the opposite wall. "We'll be back," she says, standing, not bothering to address him further.

Fitz glares steadily until the door shuts again, then he rushes forward as far as the chains will let him go. Holding his breath, he checks the pulse on her wrist.

"Jemma, please wake up," he whispers, wishing he could get closer.

Slowly, she opens her eyes. "Fitz," she looks around groggily. "Where are we?"

"Not sure," he breathes a sigh of relief, sitting back. "Nowhere good though."

Moving her arms to sit up, she finally notices the chains. "Oh. Oh no," she holds her head in her hands. "Skrull?"

He shrugs. "Looks like we should have moved on that Intel from MarVell a bit sooner."

"They did infiltrate Shield then?" she asks, eyes wide and worried. "I knew I was on to something."

"Well May was definitely doubled," he says, remembering his unpleasant skirmish with her on the Quinn Jet. He had been so close, but despite his training, she was still the better fighter. "I don't know who else has been, but probably more," he shrugs. "You definitely _weren't_ doubled, you'll be pleased to know _,"_ his lips twitch up into a grin. "Sounds like they ran out of Skrulls and are calling for back-up because of something you did," he raises his eyebrows proudly.

Simmons nods sheepishly. "I got hold of Skye and asked her to come check things out," she says. "But I got cut off..." She stops, looking around. Overwhelmed, her eyes finally settle on his face. He offers her a helpless grin, hoping to lift her spirits a little. She smiles back tightly, eyes sliding away from his.

All at once, apparently thinking something through, her cheeks turn decidedly pink. "Oh God... Fitz, you were doubled too! When? You didn't-" she covers her mouth, touching her lips with her fingertips, almost like a question.

"Yeah, no," he looks down, understanding what she means. "Don't worry, it was before that. I, uh, I was still me before your nap," he offers. He chuckles softly, lifting his eyes up to hers. "I'm actually rather pleased I didn't have to experience one of your smacks first-hand again."

"Oh, Fitz, I'm sorry" her eyes start to well up, and she shakes her head, trying to regain control. "But how do you know-?"

"I, um, saw it," he says, his features grow dark. "They made me watch what the double did for a bit. Their own brand of emotional torture." She winces, looking both concerned and mortified. He lifts his chin and takes a deep breath. "Don't worry it wasn't me that tried to..." he holds her eyes and suddenly doesn't know how to put words to what he was trying to say. He looks quickly away so he can think. "I mean it's not like I wouldn't have _wanted_ to... Well. I just wouldn't have - ah, that is - wouldn't have been that, um, _forward_... y'know, there was a lot to talk about first."

"Yeah. Of course," she nods along, holding his gaze when he finishes. He studies her eyes, making note of the particular way they look back at him. She's scared too, but also somehow hopeful. Curious. There's something else he can't quite think of the word for… After a moment, she looks pointedly down at her hands. "So, um... Should we talk then?" She lifts her chin and stares right back at him, eyes shining.

His eyes widen and he shifts uncomfortably. "Here?"

She looks around the room quickly and lifts her wrists, shaking the chain. "Not much else to do, really, is there?"

He says nothing for a moment, opening and closing his mouth, trying to decide what to say. "Well," he swallows audibly. "You already know how I feel about the subject," he crosses his arms over his chest, turning to look at the opposite wall.

"Do I?" He can feel her staring at him. He turns and blinks at her incredulously. She rolls her eyes and lifts her hands up in frustration. "Fitz you barely said anything to me for months. You just hoped that I'd put two and two together and left me feeling very confused while you sulked over things that I never said."

"Oh don't you give me that," his eyes narrow at her accusingly. "You understood well enough what I was trying to say. Forgive me for not being eloquent with-with poems and sonnets while trying to save your life. If you'd stuck around after, maybe I could have-"

" _Please_ , let's not do this again," Jemma says, clutching the back of her neck. "I left because I wasn't _helping_ you, Fitz, not because - well. You were doing much better healing on your own without me mucking it all up. Can we please just finally drop it?"

"Fine. It's dropped then," he retorts. "Not like I could have had a say in what was best for me, but fine. _You're_ the biologist." He grumbles and she lets out a huff.

They sit in silence for a few minutes. He tugs at his chain and lets it smack noisily against the wall. She shoots him an irritated glance and presses her lips together, a flush creeping up her cheeks again.

He looks at her sideways. How is she able to make his heart beat like this even when they're irritated with each other? The corners of his mouth twitch into a small smile. "It _is_ a shame we missed that dinner though. I had quite the plan."

"You did not," she rolls her eyes, trying not to grin.

"No, really, there was this whole big reservation with a fancy string quartet and everything," he says, rather pleased with himself. "I know how much you like Italian."

"Oh please," she laughs. "You probably searched online to find which sandwich shops were still open and came back to make me pick one because you couldn't decide!"

They look at each other, smiling. He opens his mouth to retort, but suddenly his breath catches. He remembers the gut feeling of walking into that room and finding her gone. "Well," his smile falls. "I did come back..."

She takes a deep, shaky breath. "Fitz..." she looks at her hands. "Where I was..." she plays absently with the corner of the cuffs, not sure how to say what she needs him to understand. "In the negative zone, that is... I - I saw a lot of things. I relived a lot of moments." Her eyes flit back up to his, and she swallows audibly, returning her gaze down to her hands. "Rick believes I saw some alternate realities too." He nods, not sure where she's going with this. "It made me realize... Well, a lot of bad things happened. Because of me."

"Jemma..."

"No, listen. You _always_ get hurt. This timeline, others. Always trying to save me."

"You can't think that's _only_ because of you?" He looks affronted. "Jemma, you were passed out most of the time under the ocean. I was the one that told you to leave me behind."

She pushes forward, apparently not listening to his attempt at reasoning. "I saw what life would have been like for us if we hadn't gone into the field. If I hadn't made you follow me."

"You didn't _make_ me do anything," he looks at her in exasperation, but the hurt in her eyes makes him pause. "Okay. What happened then?"

"It was nice, actually, that reality. Really nice. We eventually moved back home, avoided the whole Hydra mess. Got a nice house for the three of us near your mum... "

"Okay..." He swallows. _Three of us?_ "Oh."

"It's not important, really. None of that happened to _us_ , obviously. Well, not this version of us. It's just - it's my fault. If I weren't so pushy in making us go seek out adventure and save the world, we could have…" her voice catches. He nods, looking away, trying to process what she's saying. "Anyways, we're here in _this_ reality. We're stuck in a dangerous life where anything could and literally has happened. It just - it made me realize some things."

"What?"

"Well, through all of that, through all of what I saw, the different versions of realities, and the memories and, well…" she takes a deep breath. "The thing is, I think I've been in love with you for a really long time. I just didn't know what it was."

She waits a beat and then lifts her eyes to his. He realizes he's forgotten to breathe. This is the most vulnerable he's ever seen her. She's waiting for his reaction, but he's lost his words again. He's not sure how to respond. But he is certain of one thing, absolutely, without question. His eyes soften and he smiles back at her. "Sort of snuck up on you too, yeah?"

She lets out a soft laugh, joy filling her eyes. "Yeah," she tries to move closer to him, chains sliding against the floor. He inches forward too, heart hammering. "When did you...?"

With a sudden bang, the door to the cell swings open, and the two jump, crashing back to the reality of their current situation.

May strides in and grabs Fitz by the collar of his shirt, dragging him to a standing position. Jemma lets out a cry in protest, but May ignores her. "Alright, human. Now or never. We need you to fix the artifact."

"I already told you," he all but spits. "Never." May glares at him for a moment, then she sneers and punches him in the stomach. Hard. He gasps and doubles over, bile rising in his throat.

Jemma shouts and immediately stands, hands straining against the chains. "Stop! Stop it! What do you need? I'll help. Let me do it."

"No, Jemma," Fitz coughs, trying to fill his lungs with air. "It's a weapon. It's similar tech to the door we brought you through. It's supposed to give the Skrull some sort of powers. We can't."

May turns her hard gaze to Simmons, and Fitz' gut drops like he's been punched again. Before he can regain his breath, May leans down and unlocks Simmons' cuffs. She grabs Simmons by the hair and drags her towards the door, out of his reach.

"Actually, there _is_ something you can help with." Jemma squirms, eyes on Fitz.

In one swift flash, May pushes a blade into the skin of Jemma's forearm. A crimson streak tears its way through her soft flesh, and Jemma bites back a shout of pain. He can do nothing, and it tears at his insides.

"Stop, no!" He cries out.

May flashes an evil sneer to him and pulls the blade further along Jemma's arm, tearing the sensitive flesh, slowly, in a deep red line. Jemma screams in agony. He's shouting too, trying to get to her, but the cuffs hold him steadily back against the wall.

It suddenly stops and they're both panting. Fitz watches Simmons frantically. May holds her hand over the bleeding cut, putting pressure on it, and looking to Fitz with a smug expression. "Shall I continue, or are you ready to join me?"

"Please, let her go. Stop it. I'll help you, anything you want, just stop!" Fitz begs.

"Fitz, no!" Jemma warns, shaking. She holds her head high and gasps out dryly. "That actually wasn't so bad. She's going easy on me. I can definitely handle this."

May's eyes flash, and she pulls out the blade again, pushing it into Jemma's arm. He watches as she bites back the pain as long as she can, finally giving in with a long shout of agony. May's eyes go back to Fitz, ready to drag the cut deeper and longer unless he agrees to help.

"Jemma, she'll kill you!" He says through tears.

"And she'll kill _you_ if you go with her," she says through gritted teeth, trying not to look at her arm.

"Jemma, please. _Please_. Trust me." He holds her eyes steadily for a few moments, willing her to understand what he's thinking. She struggles against May's tight grasp, her jaw set with anger and frustration, but she doesn't say anything more when he stands calmly and lifts his wrists, presenting the cuffs to be unlocked.

May throws Jemma forward again and locks her back up. She immediately grips her arm, stemming the flow of blood and holding back sobs. She and Fitz try to move towards each other, but their chains hold them back yet again. May watches, amused, then turns and removes Fitz' cuffs from the wall. She shoves him forward before he can try anything, holding his arms behind him. His eyes don't leave Jemma's until he's pushed out of the door.


	8. Double

**Previously on The Door:**

 _A restless Mac continues to be suspicious of the situation at the camp, so he stands guard over MarVell and Kesia. During a chat with Simmons, they both realize that she's developing some sort of mind-reading abilities._

 _Simmons also starts to grow suspicious, so she snoops around the camp looking for more information and trying to avoid Fitz. When she sneaks onto the Quinn Jet to contact Skye in order to ease her paranoia, she's attacked and captured._

 _Realizing that a group of Shield agents are now on the way, the Skrull throw Jemma into a cell where the real Fitz is being held captive, and go to call reinforcements. The two are left alone and have a long-needed talk. When the Skrull who has taken May's form returns, she uses Jemma as incentive to get Fitz to help them fix the artifact._

* * *

The pistol sparks in his grip, but he manages not to flinch. Stretching and curling his fingers, Fitz ignores the sharp pain that shoots through his hand from the shocks and reaches for a tool. The chain on his arm strains against it, restricting his movements. He frowns and looks up to May beneath hooded brows. She rolls her eyes and hands it to him.

"This is taking too long," she hisses.

"In a rush, are you?" he bites back, bringing the tool in and twisting it through the hot wires.

She sneers, strolling casually around the small bare room. She taps a screen that's set into the wall. " _You_ should be," she turns back to him with a twisted smile. "Without bandages, someone quite special will have a hard time picking herself off the floor. I suggest you hurry."

Fitz sets his jaw, concentrating on the task at hand, refusing to look at the screen. He knows what he'll see, and he can't afford to lose focus. "This tech barely looks human," he says roughly. "I can't work quickly if I don't know what I'm dealing with."

"I thought you were supposed to be a genius," chortles the Skrull that looks like May. "Of course it's not _human_. This is a Skrull weapon."

Fitz turns the gun over in his hands, examining it closer. The delicate curls and knots in the metallic frame would be almost beautiful if he had a moment to appreciate them properly. The technology is clearly more advanced than even the Asgardian machinery he's encountered in the past. "How is this possibly related to the door Rick's been working on then?"

"Do you honestly believe I am the first Skrull on this planet?" she deadpans. "The portal also appears to implement Skrull technology. That's what caught my attention." He swallows, poking at some of the wires. "What interests me is that you somehow managed to adapt it to this planet's atmosphere. Something you did must have triggered the right conditions for a biological change to take place among the other uses the scientists concocted."

Fitz says nothing. Tinkering with the tools, he mulls over the implications of what she's saying.

The Skrull paces, checking her own monitor. "The others should be arriving shortly," she says to herself.

Fitz glances up, taking note of the signatures registered on the monitor. If what he's seeing is correct, then she's the only Skrull here. The rest must be at the camp. He swallows. Recognizing his chance, he grits his teeth. "Y'know, if you're so in charge, I'm surprised they made you stay behind to babysit," he needles. "Do the others not trust you with important things like invasions?"

"You don't know what you speak of." She speaks smoothly, but he notices her back tense and the way she clutches the edge of the table.

"I'm just saying," Fitz pushes, pleased that he's touched on a nerve. "I thought you were the one giving orders at first, but if it's just _you_ keeping watch over me and a handful of crippled prisoners, the others must not actually think too highly of you…"

"You do not understand the importance of this weapon!" May spits over her shoulder. "Once the other Skrull arrive, we will all go through the process and gain unimaginable powers. We will be unstoppable across the galaxy, and they will know that it was I who brought about this new age of Super-Skrulls. They will not cease to honour me with the glory that my station deserves!"

Fitz doesn't blink as he steps back to gain distance, maneuvering his hands and nodding slowly. "Right, so you're just hoping to get a promotion then?" He looks back at the gun as it sparks, and shrugs. "Good luck, I suppose…"

May flinches and whirls around, moving so close that her gnashing teeth are inches away from his face. "Do not push me, human! You are necessary right now, but once your use is at an end, there's nothing stopping me from disposing of you and the girl in the most painful ways imaginable."

Fitz meets her eyes steadily, and his mouth quirks into a dry smile. "You know what I've discovered makes me such a valuable genius?" he asks cheekily, lifting his suddenly unchained hands and waving them in the air with the key he swiped off of her. "My ability to think outside the box."

He picks up the gun and without a second thought, aims it at her chest, pulling the trigger. Her face contorts with anger. She begins to let out a roar of frustration, but it chokes off, leaving an eerie silence hanging in the room. Fitz stumbles backwards, watching in shock. The silver metal seeps out of the smoking wound in her chest, quickly flowing to cover her entire body. She tries to move towards him, but her legs grow heavy, dragging behind her until she can no longer move. With a green flash, she becomes as solid as a statue, standing in the middle of the silent room, fist held up, aimed at Fitz, pure metal.

Eyes wide, Fitz blinks. "Huh," he says. Lifting a finger up, he taps the statue on the face with a metallic clink. She's solid and unmoving. Shivering at how eerie the image is, he steps back and tucks the gun under his arm. Without a backwards glance, he heads immediately for the doorway.

The dark hall isn't long, but he still has trouble retracing his steps back to Simmons. Wherever they are being held, it seems like a relatively small space. There are a few doorways, but it's all very dark and he has difficulty navigating. Pretty sure that he's alone, he calls out her name, staring at the doors in front of him.

"Fitz?" He hears in response. It's a man's voice. Fitz stops in front of one of the doors, head cocked to the side. He waves the key in front of what appears to be a locking mechanism on the door and it slides open.

Coulson is kneeling on the ground in the cold cell, clothes torn and his face bruised. His forearm is missing. "Please tell me it's really you," he says, looking dishevelled.

"It's really me, Sir," Fitz says. He offers a hand to help the director up. "Do you know how many others are here?"

"As far as I know? Maybe three or four of us. They attacked the playground shortly after Agent May arrived. At least we thought it was May. Most of the team were off on a mission, but the ones that were there… They overwhelmed us. We didn't stand a chance. I never thought I'd be so happy to have so few resources. Less for them to take."

"We'll get them out, Sir," Fitz nods. "It sounds like the Skrull have all left us here alone for now. They're back at the camp preparing for the arrival of more. Skye and the rest of our team are on the way, but I don't think they know what they're walking into."

"Okay," Coulson nods, taking in as much information as he can. "One step at a time then. Let's start kicking down doors," he winks. He squares himself off in front of one door, but Fitz cuts in and waves the key in front of the locking mechanism before the director can lift his foot to actually kick it in. Coulson shrugs, conceding the easier option as the door slides open.

Melinda May sits at the back of her cell, cross-legged and head bowed. There are tick marks etched into the walls around her, counting the days she's been held prisoner. She slowly lifts her head and winces at the small amount of light that leaks into the dark room.

"May?" Coulson says. "Oh, thank God."

She glares up at him as he rushes forward. Kneeling in front of her, he brushes her shoulder tenderly. He lifts her chin, but in a flash she takes hold of his hand and twists, turning his arm to an odd angle, standing over him. "I've had enough of your tricks," she spits. "Didn't you learn your lesson during our last little game?"

"May, stop! It's me, Phil!"

"Um, hi May," Fitz peers into the doorway. "It really is us, the Skrull have all gone for the moment."

She glares up at him with a sneer. "Toss me that gun and I'll consider believing you this time."

Fitz looks at the gun held under his arm, and immediately drops it to the floor, sliding it over to her. "Better? Careful with that. We don't have a lot of time. We've got to find Jemma," he says, and backs away.

May purses her lips at the gun, then releases Phil's arm. She steps over and picks up the weapon, testing its weight. Content that she won't start shooting anyone, Fitz spins around and speeds through the hallway.

"Jemma! Where are you?" he calls.

"Fitz?" he hears a soft noise. Her voice is weak. He stops in front of the doorway and waves the key in front of it. It slides open, and he runs inside. She's leaning with her back against the wall, extremely pale. She grips her forearm where she was cut, but blood seeps between her fingers, pooling on the floor in front of her. He rushes towards her.

"Oh, God," he stammers. "Uh, h-help! Coulson, May, we need help! Get medical supplies!"

"Fitz, it's fine. Don't make such a fuss," she smiles weakly. He presses his hands onto her forearm, trying to stem the flow. She blinks drunkenly, trying to keep conscious.

"We have a problem," May says firmly in the doorway.

"Yes, I can bloody well see that," he cries. "Jemma, stay awake, stay with me." He pats her cheek when her eyes start to close in a sleepy smile. "What-what do I do?"

May walks in behind him and tosses him a small cloth pack. "Here. They used this on me enough times," she says gruffly. "It should do the trick." Fitz wraps the cloth around Jemma's arm with shaking hands. May crouches down. "Hold that there. She'll be fine by the time we get back. Listen to me, Fitz, we have a bigger problem."

Fitz watches the colour start to return to Jemma's cheeks. He lifts the bandage and sees the deep cut start to heal itself. He lets out a big gush of air and holds the bandage more tightly to her arm. She would be okay.

"Uh, Fitz, May has a point with this whole problem thing..." Coulson calls from the hallway.

Fitz turns hesitantly from Jemma. "What?" The director motions for him to come over, so he walks back out of the cell, standing next to Coulson. He's staring out a large window behind the door where May's double stands. "Oh. Bloody hell," he says.

Out the window is Africa, all right. The entire southern half of the continent, that is. They're thousands of feet in the air, just inside the Earth's atmosphere.

May walks past the other doors and into a control room. "Like I said, slight problem," she says flatly. Fitz follows her. "I suggest you strap yourselves in. Keep the others in their cells for now. It might be a bumpy ride."

"You're not going to fly us back are you? We're in a bloody flying saucer!"

May raises an eyebrow. She quickly examines the controls and then flicks some switches. "Just like riding a bike," she says. "The Skrull are still a threat, and I have some scores to settle," she sits. "We go back."

* * *

Jemma opens her eyes sleepily. There's rumbling all around her, yet she feels oddly more at ease than she has in a long time. Her left forearm itches like mad, but it's far better than the pain that was overwhelming her earlier. Taking a slow breath in, a familiar scent fills her senses, reminding her of home. She shifts slightly, happy to discover Fitz's arm circling her shoulders, holding her closely to his side as they sit strapped to a hard bench. She smiles to herself and nestles into the crook of his shoulder, taking another deep breath in.

Realizing she's awake, he tenses and sits up, shifting away from her ever so slightly. She murmurs in protest until he settles back, rubbing circles into her shoulder. She leans in closer and smiles up at him. He blinks and smiles back, relief etched into his face. A slight wrinkle of concern tinges the corner of his eyes, and he leans over to check the bandage on her forearm. She can feel his breath against her cheek, but her eyes follow the direction of his. The skin where the cut had been is angry and red, but it appears to be stitching itself back together neatly enough. Given time, she may only have a small scar.

"Looks like Alien tech is good for one or two things," he says.

"Mmm," she hums, watching his hands smooth the bandage back over her arm. Her eyes flit up, enjoying how close his face is to hers. "Make sure to hang onto this when we get back," she says. "I'd love to study the healing properties."

He grins, facing her and giving her shoulder a light squeeze. "Glad to see you're coming back to your old self."

"Of course," she says. She wrinkles her nose, paying attention to the curve his lips take as he smiles especially for her. "I had _you_ looking after me, didn't I?"

A few seats away, someone clears their throat. "Don't get too comfortable. I'm afraid it's not over yet," Coulson says.

"Sir!" Jemma sits straight up. Fitz drops his arm, pulling it into his lap. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm so sorry, you're- Er, that is. You were doubled too?"

"Looks like we all were," Coulson tries to hide his amusement. "Nothing to be sorry about, Simmons. I'm glad you're safe."

"We weren't all doubled, actually," Fitz says proudly. "Jemma wasn't. She got a signal to Skye before they caught her, and they needed to call reinforcements."

She bites her lip to keep from smiling too widely. Is he peacocking on her behalf? "I'm not sure what good it all did, though," Jemma demurs. "Reinforcements still means there's a confrontation on the way. We don't know how many will be on either side."

"At least we have one advantage. If the Inhumans are on their way, this is precisely what they were designed for. If we're lucky there won't be any need for a fight and the Skrull will back down."

"We also have MarVell to help back at the camp. He's Kree, so he'll know what to expect."

"I feel like there's a lot that I missed," Coulson says. He sits back and looks pointedly between them, eyes twinkling.

Fitz and Simmons look at each other, and then back to him. Fitz opens his mouth and starts stammering, and she tries to think of something appropriate to say. Nothing had _actually_ happened between them like he'd implied. There wasn't anything to tell. Was there?

With a jolt, the craft suddenly drops a few feet in the air, and their rambling is halted. Their hands immediately fly together, grasping each other tightly in their panic. The flight just as quickly smooths back out. It was only turbulence. They look down at their intertwined hands and then shyly look back up to meet the other's eyes. They each release a breath, smiling quickly and pulling their hands back to their own respective laps. She's very grateful that Coulson looks away as though nothing happened, though he doesn't hide his own grin very well.

Not a moment passes before the plane jolts and shakes again, harder this time. Their hands fly back together and their heads snap to attention, realizing that the view out the window is getting steadily closer and closer, as Earth rises up to meet them.

"Everyone hold on tight," May calls back from the driver's seat. "This could get bumpy."

* * *

Rick looks around his tent. Someone had clearly been through here. This was getting ridiculous. So far everything he'd been warned about Shield was coming true. They may all have their hearts in the right place, but the suspicion among them was as thick as the red tape they put up when they didn't understand something. He was beyond restless.

Lifting a few papers, he sighs, not looking forward to going through the mess to discover if anything had been taken. He didn't like adding so many people to the mission just yet, though clearly it had been no one's fault. Mac and Fitz had just appeared. And Agent Fitz had actually proven integral in getting MarVell back to the base to push their search along further. Yet somehow they were stalled again.

In the distance a loud hum grows. He steps out of the tent and looks around him, but sees nothing. Mac runs out as well, and the two men glare at each other. Mac was always just over his shoulder, the ever-present watchful eye. The wind suddenly picks up through the trees, and the hum grows to a loud rumbling, getting closer by the second. He looks up. A large shuttle speeds down towards them, and his stomach drops. His worst fears…

"It's a Skrull ship!" he shouts over the roar.

The shuttle flies over their heads, getting very close to the ground. "You have got to be kidding me!" Mac shouts, pulling out one of Shield's guns and tossing another to Rick.

"Get down!"

The shuttle lurches in the air. It bucks and shakes the closer it gets to the ground. With a long rumbling roar, it ploughs into the earth, gouging a long, deep trench and sending dirt cascading everywhere. Rick and Mac run towards the crash, weapons drawn.

With a groan, a piece of metal falls off the back of the shuttle. As the dust clears, the back door begins to lift slowly open. Rick and Mac exchange a look and adjust the grip on their weapons. The wind whips around them as the silhouettes of four figures begin to appear in the doorway, standing strongly as the deep orange sunlight pours through the steadily widening gap in the door. Before more than their knees can be revealed, however, the door stops with a shuttering halt.

"Shite!" he hears.

"There goes our grand heroic entrance," comes a man's voice. "Okay, everyone drop your poses. The moment's ruined."

The feet begin to shuffle and one set marches to one side of the door.

"Ow, Fitz, that's my foot!" A pair of feet hops in pain, shaking itself off as the other stumbles.

"Sorry, it's hard to see. The light from outside is bloody blinding me." Another set of feet shuffles over to join the first in the corner.

"Did you try the lever there?"

"Can everyone give me a minute? We did just crash-land. Is everyone still in one piece even?"

"Don't listen to him May, you did beautifully. You would never know it was your first time flying an alien spacecraft."

"He means this lever," a monotone voice says from the other side of the doorway.

With a clunk and a groan, the doorway continues to open. The four figures stand slumped, battered and bruised, and looking entirely non-plussed.

"Right, that's the one then," Fitz says, hands at his waist. "Thanks May."

Rick lowers his weapon, taking in the dishevelled foursome in front of him. Coulson stands in only an undershirt and pants, one arm missing. May looks like she hasn't showered in weeks, her dark eyes ready to shoot someone. Simmons' shirt is soaked in blood, but she appears to be in one piece, standing particularly close to a bruised but smiling Fitz. "Want to tell us what's going on?"

They all look at each other, and after a beat, Fitz steps forward.

"Right! Coulson, this is Rick," Fitz explains. "Rick, this is - well, you've already… I mean, this is the _real_ Director Coulson. Not the Skrull version we thought was him." His hand goes to the back of his head as a thought occurs to him. "Oh god, we should probably find the other one, yeah?"

"Rick, pleasure to meet you," Coulson limps forward off the back of the shuttle and offers his only hand out.

"Likewise…" Rick blinks, shaking the man's hand, trying to wrap his mind around the situation.

"Rick knows Bruce Banner, does a bit of work with him," Fitz says, stepping towards them with Simmons. Rick doesn't miss how closely the two of them stand next to each other.

"He's been working on stopping the Skrull before they get the chance to invade," Simmons finishes brightly.

Coulson raises an eyebrow. "Huh. I'd say keep up the good work, but all things considered…"

"So you were all doubled then?" Mac asks gruffly.

"Except Simmons. She just pissed them off," Fitz says. The two grin at each other quickly until Simmons looks away, blushing.

"Are there any more?"

"Um…" Fitz whirls around behind him, as if remembering something.

"Yes," May says, still standing in the doorway. "There are a few more of us in the shuttle. We kept them in their cells for the landing. We should get them out."

"Shield is on the way too," Simmons says. "I managed to get hold of them." She looks around, and her eyes settle on the big man next to Rick. "And before you ask, Mac : No this is absolutely not a trap. We were all captured and put on the transport shuttle for safe keeping before the Skrull could get us to their big Prisoner Ship. We escaped after Fitz took out May's double and no one was left on board because they're all down here preparing for the others to arrive. You should find Skrull-May frozen like a statue at the back workstation. Rick, I'm sorry, but yes, more Skrull are absolutely on the way, so we all need to come up with a plan to stop them sooner than you expected. Now preferably. Oh, May and Coulson were doubled before they got here so we probably have to catch them up to speed a bit. Fitz, will you please stop looking at me like that?"

Everyone but Mac stares at Simmons, mouths hanging open. She looks around at their surprised expressions, and then blushes, eyes dropping to her hands. "Did I, um, mention I can sort of read minds now?"

Fitz looks as though he's been caught with his pants down, but when she gives him a firm nudge in the shoulder, he quickly recovers and smiles down at her. "What, you couldn't before?" Everyone shifts, momentarily unsure of what to say, so Fitz claps his hands together to break the awkward silence that's developed. "Alright, let's get these prisoners free, shall we?" He turns abruptly and heads back into the shuttle. She smiles tightly at everyone, then follows close behind.

"Mac , where are Coulson and Fitz? The Skrull ones, I mean." May looks sternly at the tall man.

"Right, they just went back up to the cliff where the portal is," Mac says. "They will have seen the shuttle come in, but we can probably catch them at their own game for a bit to stall them. Follow me, I'll update you on the way."

Realizing it's just the two of them left, Rick coughs, searching for something to say. Coulson sits down on a nearby boulder with a groan. "Sometimes I think I'm getting too old for all this," he shakes his head. "But then, I tell myself, you're never too old for an alien invasion. Right?" He looks over to Rick with a cheeky grin. Rick smiles back thinly. "So you know Banner?"

Rick shifts his weight. "Yeah, a bit. We worked together briefly back in New York at the Baxter building. Not long, but we try to keep tabs on each other."

"I'm impressed. He doesn't like keeping tabs on most people. You must have something special," Coulson nods, looking up at him. "You know, I could use people like you on my team when this is all over."

"Thanks for the offer, but I don't work well with red tape," Rick smirks.

"Fair enough," Coulson stretches out and rubs his shoulder. "Never thought I'd say this, but I can't wait to get by robotic arm back. I'll have to disinfect it for a week, though," he sighs.

"A little help over here!" Fitz stumbles forwards from the back of the plane with a very tall blonde woman leaning on his shoulder, limping heavily, only half conscious. Rick runs forward to help, but Fitz waves him to the back, "No, help Simmons. She's got Andrew but he's barely conscious. She can't carry him out."

Rick runs to the back and finds Simmons crouched over a dark-skinned man, trying in vain to wake him up.

"Here, I've got him." Rick leans down and picks him up, wrapping his arms around his shoulder.

They're almost off the shuttle when a low rumbling and a dark shadow pass over them from high above. They peer out and look up. Rick shakes his head. He just wasn't going to catch a break today.

"Either Shield has some strange new ideas of how to decorate their air ships, or I'd say the Skrull have their reinforcements ready."

"Oh God," Simmons cries. "But we're not ready yet! Skye's not here, we can't beat them with just us!"

"Go. Run and get Kesia in the Medical tent," Rick says, shifting the weight of the man he's holding. "Tell her we need MarVell immediately."

"Fitz?" She turns her frightened eyes to her partner.

"I'll be right behind you, go!" Fitz calls, catching the tall woman as she nearly flops to the side, suddenly losing consciousness altogether.

Simmons nods determinedly, and runs down the pathway as fast as she can.

* * *

Jemma flies into the medical tent, trying to catch her breath. Kesia is sitting calmly next to MarVell's sleeping form.

"Kesia, we need MarVell! The Skrull are here," Simmons rushes immediately to the drawers for medical supplies, searching through them. "He needs to wake up! Do you have anything? Adrenaline? Will that work on him?"

The small woman looks up slowly, registering what she's being told. She lets out a deep sigh and folds her hands in her lap. "I am afraid I cannot let that happen, Jemma," Kesia says. Her face looks sad yet determined. She places a gentle hand on MarVell's chest.

"What do you mean you can't let that happen? The Skrull are _here_ , we need his help!"

"Yes, that might be so," Kesia says, "but I cannot let him wake. I am afraid it is too dangerous."

"Kesia! What are you -?" Pressed for time, Simmons shuts her eyes, trying to search the other woman's mind for her answers.

"I'm here, I'm here!" Fitz runs in, nearly skidding into her from behind. "What is it?" Fitz says. He searches Jemma's face, but she shakes her head, mouth hanging open as though she can't believe what she's seeing.

Kesia turns and addresses him, chin held high. "These Skrull that are on their way, they are nothing. They are petty and power-hungry. Their cause will either succeed, or it will fail. It is of little consequence to me, so long as those that I care about remain safe."

"But the village. Kesia, your people need your help," Fitz says, barely shielding the disgust from his expression.

She lets a quick laugh escape her lips. "And what do you know of my people?" She grimaces.

Holding her eyes shut tightly, the woman's dark skin shifts and flows, fading into a mossy green. Her eyes open, yellow and sleek. Fitz freezes, muscles tensing. Jemma grabs his arm to hold him back.

"My people abandoned me here decades ago because I was born on the wrong side of the Skrull monarchy," Kesia says. "I took the place of a young girl on the edge of death and slipped into the cracks unnoticed. It was not until I began my work with Rick that I met MarVell." She looks over him, brushing the hair out of his sleeping eyes. "He was the first person to see me for what I really was. He was… understanding," her voice softens, still finding that statement hard to believe. She takes one of his hands to hold in her own. "He knows what it's like to be an outsider," she blinks slowly and turns to face the two scientists, her face growing hard. "He _must_ remain here. If he wakes, the Kree will find him and take him back. If he helps, the Skrull will kill him. I've lost him once already, and I won't do so again. "

"You're… in love with him?" Jemma breathes.

Fitz looks between them. "But you're Skrull. He's Kree."

Kesia lowers her eyes and turns sadly back to Jemma. "I told you once that love is not fair. That it always gets us into trouble one way or another."

"But... I thought he and Carol Danvers…"

Kesia's soft smile fades completely, and she looks away.

"No, I get it." Fitz says quietly. "She loves him, but…" Simmons turns and studies his face. He shrugs and steps forward, avoiding her gaze. "That's really why you're keeping him asleep, isn't it? Yes, there's danger and all, but there was always that. The real danger is that when he wakes up, you'll see all over again that he doesn't feel the same way."

Kesia stares straight ahead, lips pursed.

"Fitz," Jemma says, breaking the heavy silence. He refuses to look at her, so she grabs his hand. His eyes flick up and he holds her gaze hard.

" _Jemma!_ " She jumps at the desperate cry from outside the tent. It takes her brain a moment to understand that it's Fitz running towards them, a pistol drawn and focused on the Fitz whose hand is intertwined with hers. "Get away from him!"

She leaps away, confused. How are there two of them? They were barely separated for a moment.

The Fitz holding the pistol stops a few paces in front of the other, holding the gun steadily at his head. The Fitz whose hand she was just holding lifts his arms up quickly in surrender, shaking. "Don't! Don't shoot! Jemma, stay back!"

"Don't you talk to her," the second Fitz growls. "I'm warning you, these are real bullets. Just - Just give me a reason!"

Jemma looks between them, desperately trying to discern which is which. They look identical but for a small cut on the cheek of the Fitz holding the gun, and a heavy bruise on the chin of the one being held at gunpoint. They were even wearing the same tactical outfit. When did all of these wounds happen? How could she have missed these small indicators? She shuts her eyes, trying to concentrate on more than just their physical appearance. But at a sudden movement, her eyes shoot open again, breaking her focus.

The Fitz standing with his hands up makes a sharp swing with his arm and grabs the gun from the other, punching him in the stomach and taking aim while the other tries to recover.

While doubled over, the second Fitz's eyes flit up to Jemma's in terror. He takes a sharp breath when he hears the safety release. Blinking back fear, he lunges forward, throwing all his weight into the man with the gun, tackling him to the ground. The gun goes flying across the floor and Fitz punches the other in the face before he can reach for it. And again. He takes aim to hit him again, harder, but the other man flips his weight, sending them flying backwards into a table.

With the second Fitz pinned, back to the table, the first one picks up a scalpel that's fallen nearby. He grimaces and holds it tightly in his shaking hand. He looks down at his mirror image. "Don't make me do this," he says, voice trembling.

The second Fitz's eyes are wide, and he grabs onto the other's wrists, holding back his hands. He squirms, unable to get leverage with his legs, so he crashes his head forward, dazing the other. Using the moment to wrestle the scalpel out of his hand, the second Fitz stands and grabs the first around the shoulders, bringing his arm tightly around his neck and pressing the scalpel to his throat, eyes blazing.

"STOP!" Two shots ring out, and everyone freezes, the scalpel clattering harmlessly to the floor. Jemma holds the pistol above her head. She glares at both of them, shaking.

She's not sure what to do now, but after a moment, the Fitz still in a headlock looks up at her, eyes pleading. "Jemma, please, it's me. You have to believe me. Shoot him, he's the impostor."

"Stop talking!" shouts the second Fitz, tightening his grip. "Jemma, concentrate. You know which of us is real. You have to know."

"Remember! Remember what we just talked about together? Please, Jemma! You can't trust him!"

She lowers the pistol to eye-level, aiming it straight ahead, moving it between the two of them. They both gulp in fear. She has no idea what to do. They are identical in every way but for the one that matters, and her mind is too scrambled to make this decision. She can't concentrate. Either one could be a Skrull. Either one could be her Fitz. Hands shaking, she pulls the safety release.


	9. Shots Fired

**Previously on The Door:**

 _Managing to orchestrate an escape by attacking Skrull-May with the weapon he's supposed to fix, Fitz breaks the other prisoners free and heals a wounded Jemma. They arrive back at Camp with just enough time to see the Skrull reinforcements arrive._

 _Simmons runs to wake up MarVell, but Kesia won't let that happen. When she reveals her true motives, Fitz has a surprising reaction, until a second Fitz runs in, interrupting their conversation. The two Fitzes fight until Jemma forces them to stop by holding them at gunpoint, too confused to tell them apart._

* * *

She knows the rhythmic thud overwhelming her ears is the pounding of her own blood through her veins. She knows the cool, sleek metal in her damp hands is the gun that will slip if she attempts to shift her position. She knows the tight feeling in her chest is her adrenaline spiking, forcing the breaths out of her mouth to be shallow and heighten her other senses. She does not know which of the two men in front of her is Fitz.

Jemma can't trust her eyes. They won't tell her which man had known her half her life. She can't trust her nose - the only smell in the air is fear. She can't even trust her new maddening powers to look into their minds and tell her which was the man that would stand by her side no matter what happened. It doesn't work like that. Not when everyone is running on instinct alone. Not when she is so horrified at this impossible situation that she can barely think herself.

Stalling, she motions with the gun for the two men to stand apart. "I'm going to count to three," Simmons says, praying that her voice sounds steady and in charge. The second Fitz carefully releases the first, and they both stand with their arms up. Looking through the space between them, Simmons is almost surprised to notice Kesia kneeling on the ground at the back of the tent. The small woman is shaking and looks suitably afraid. Simmons shouldn't get the twinge of satisfaction knowing how scared the other woman is, but there it is. If she wasn't going to help them, then she _should_ be afraid. Simmons purses her lips and Kesia catches her eye for an infinitesimal moment. All at once, Simmons knows what to do.

"One," she says, adjusting her grip on the pistol.

The first Fitz gulps audibly, staring at the gun. The second Fitz looks almost calm, eyes widening, but not leaving Jemma's face. The woman at the back of the room begins to slowly stand, moving as quietly as possible. Jemma grits her teeth together.

"Two."

The second Fitz starts to turn his head at a small sound Kesia makes, so Jemma points the gun at him, glaring, forcing him to re-focus only on her. The first Fitz is visibly shaking, trying to think of something to say, but mouth not forming the right words. Quietly stepping over to the bed, Kesia lifts a syringe out of one of the toppled drawers, shifting it in her hands. She looks straight at Jemma.

"Three!"

Many things happen at once. Staring down the barrel of the gun, the second Fitz shouts Jemma's name then shuts his eyes. Kesia plunges the needle of adrenaline into MarVell's leg, just as the first Fitz drops to the ground. He grabs the abandoned scalpel and throws it hard, straight into the heart of the Skrull woman. Simmons drops the gun.

Kesia looks down at her chest, just the tip of the metal instrument protrudes out, the rest buried deep in her flesh. She stumbles and grabs hold of MarVell's hand before she falls to the floor.

The first Fitz twists his mouth into a malicious grin, turning back to face Jemma. The second Fitz forces his way between them, holding her back, away from the double.

"Finally," the first Fitz' skin bubbles and morphs, turning green. "This whole charade's been fun, but I really think it's time that I kill MarVell now, don't you?"

Fitz steps forward, making sure to keep Jemma behind him. "You can't. I- I won't let you."

The Skrull looks over in amusement. "You won't let me? _You_?" He chuckles, shaking his head. He looks up and studies Fitz' determined features with delight. "This should be interesting. Do you have any idea how exhausting it is being you?" He sneers and lifts his green hand, marvelling at its colour lovingly. "Your brain just never stops. Not even for a moment," he chuckles. "It's a wonder you get anything done. Constantly worrying out little problems, finding patterns. Questioning. _Every._ Little. Thing!" He punctuates each word with a snarl. He playfully lifts his hands in the air, shaking them, raising the pitch of his voice in a mock Scottish accent. "What if I'm _wrong_? Is this what she _wants_? Am I _good_ enough?"

Jemma places a hand on Fitz' back. She can feel how tense he is, so she hopes the small touch will help. Realizing she has a brief moment where eyes are not on her, she seizes it. She slowly begins to sink down on her knees and fishes for the pistol she dropped.

"The sheer depth of _emotions_ ," the Skrull spits. "I am a decorated soldier of the Skrull Empire, with very direct orders. Yes, human emotions have always been messy and unpredictable, but," his eyes flit from Fitz to face Simmons as she quickly straightens, clutching the pistol behind her back. "The way he feels about you _, Jemma,_ is probably the most distracting thing I've ever experienced." He sneers again and Fitz flinches, clenching his fists, face turning to a dark scowl. "But what's more _pathetic_ is he doesn't even have the guts to do anything about it!"

Fitz prepares to launch himself forward, but Jemma jumps in front of him and holds the pistol to the Skrull's head.

"The only thing here that's pathetic is _you_ ," she growls.

"Go ahead," he sighs, raising his hands and stepping back casually. With a wink, the Skrull shifts back into Fitz' face. "Shoot me then. If you can."

Jemma glares at him. Her breath catches at how much like her best friend the alien staring back at her appears. Even though she knows it's not him, something holds her back. She can't do this. Not Fitz. She can't stare into his eyes and watch the life drain out of them because of her. She lowers the pistol. The Skrull laughs again and takes a step closer. With a grimace, Jemma punches him straight between the eyes.

The Skrull stumbles backwards, clutching his face which quickly falters back to green. He trips and falls forward onto the bed at the precise moment that the adrenaline kicks into MarVell's system. The large Kree man sits straight up in his bed, eyes wide and trembling. He looks around frantically and stops, recognizing Jemma. The now-green man in Fitz' clothing looks up, eyes wide with fear, and MarVell grabs his arms, roughly holding him still.

"Skrull?" he asks quickly.

Simmons nods, breathing heavily. He tightens his grip and grins with the sudden freedom of being able to do something productive. MarVell's eyes snap back down, following Jemma's to the woman lying at the foot of his bed. The large man's face darkens with anger. He spins the Skrull around.

"What have you done?" He shouts. He shakes the Skrull. "Speak!"

The green man sneers, trembling, but doesn't respond. MarVell's large fist connects with the Skrull's square jaw with a sickening crack. And again. With every moment of silence, he continues to beat the green man in a blind rage until Jemma steps forward.

"Don't! There are better ways than killing him," Jemma cries.

MarVell glares down at the snivelling Skrull. He strikes his fist forward one last time, and the Skrull falls back, thoroughly unconscious. MarVell tosses his limp body back down to the rubble. He stands for a moment, gathering control of his temper, clenching and unclenching his fists.

Once his breathing has slowed, he turns carefully back to the woman lying on the floor. Sinking down in disbelief, he folds her body into his arms. Simmons can feel the precise moment that his heart is wrenched in two.

MarVell may not have known whether or not he had been in love with Kesia, exactly, but there was enough there. His eyes grow distant as he brushes a hand gently over the woman's face. He knew there was something between them that was special and beautiful. Something that was gone now. Forever. With a shudder, he stands and walks out of the tent.

Simmons feels the weight of his loneliness in the middle of the tent, overwhelmed, pistol held limply by her side. Was this how love always ended? Before it even began? She turns to look at Fitz, hoping his presence will soothe her. Keeping busy as ever, he had quietly collected some rope out of the overturned medical bins and began tying it tightly around the prone Skrull's arms. He notices her staring at him and offers a small smile, nodding to the door. Jemma steps out of the tent, following the large Kree man.

MarVell is kneeling in the dirt, breathing heavily. His mind races with memories of Kesia. Of how he had seen her, how he should have seen her. Of what he should have done or said to make her understand how important to him she had been when he felt so alone. Simmons tries to shut it all out, to give him privacy in his grief, but it's all too strong. She goes and rests a hand on his shoulder. At her touch, the large Kree man flinches and stands.

"There are more, aren't there?" His face is hard with emotion. She nods. "This ends today." He shrugs off her hand and storms across the field into the setting sun.

Simmons stares after him, tears welling up in her eyes. The sky is a blaze with a fiery light, and for all that had transpired since the moment she'd been taken into the Kree rock, she can't begin to make sense of it. A warm hand laces into hers from behind. She smiles thinly and turns to face Fitz.

"Promise it's really me this time," he says. "The other one's tied in the back. He'll be out for a while, I think," he offers her a cheerful grin before his eyes soften with concern.

"Good. I far prefer you." She stares up at him. The deep red light from the setting sun glints in his eyes and they just stand for a few moments, breathing. Her thumb draws a light circle across the back of his hand.

"I uh," Fitz blinks and looks quickly to the ground. "Thanks," he mutters.

She quirks her head. "What for?"

He shrugs. "Back there. That was…"

"...difficult." She finishes for him, somberly.

He gives a short laugh. "Tame way of putting it, but yeah." A dozen emotions fly across his features until finally he takes a deep breath as though steeling himself. "Jemma-"

"Fitz, I'm so sorry," she cuts in before he says anything more. She grabs his other hand, staring at it. "For everything that I put you through. For all the times I should have been there for you but I wasn't."

"Jemma you don't have to-" his eyes are wide, gaping at her with what looks like fear.

"No, Fitz. You must know that I always cared for you."

"Of course I know, Jemma, we-"

"-Even when we were just friends. If we _ever_ were only just that. You've always been the most important person to me, and that's bigger than any-"

"-I _know_ , Jemma. Can you just-" He swallows audibly. With a sigh of exasperation, he takes a step forward.

"-I'm sorry it took me so long to do anything about it. You know I have trouble with all that sometimes-"

"-Jemma, just -" He growls in frustration and puts a hand on her shoulder. "Please stop talking for a minute." Their eyes meet again. She suddenly notices how intensely he's been looking at her. She finds it impossible to look away.

Her breath catches in her throat. "What are y-" Head spinning, he pulls her close. Almost like a question, he presses his lips to hers and lingers there for a moment. The words fall silent on her tongue.

His lips are soft. Softer than she'd imagined them being. They taste like salt and home. She closes her eyes and relaxes into him, a tingle rushing down her spine as she tentatively presses her lips back against his. When she feels him start to pull away, she leans in further, twisting one hand into his shirt and bringing him back in, closer still. His hand moves to her waist and he holds her tightly to him. He tips her chin, deepening the kiss with a new angle, slipping his hand to the back of her head and tangling his fingers through her hair. He tests the tip of his tongue against her lips. She parts them and pulls him in deeper, exploring the new sensations, teasing him, pushing him further. Sparks fly between them with every touch as the kiss becomes more frantic. With a soft moan, he lifts his other hand to her face and pulls back reluctantly, brushing his thumb over her cheek.

She takes a half step forward as they break apart, but she manages to hold back her protest. He leans his forehead against hers and they both just stand for a moment, eyes closed, panting deeply. She brushes her nose against his, and his eyes jump open, searching her face for what she could possibly be thinking. She smiles. His eyes sparkle in amazement, and a quick surge of joy bubbles through her. She tilts her head back up. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she recaptures his smiling lips with hers.

A cough breaks their concentration and they both freeze against each other. "Fitz? Simmons?!" They jump apart.

"You guys know there's an alien invasion happening right now. Right?"

They both stare at their feet. Certain she's bright red, Jemma risks a glance up and Fitz smiles back, biting his lip. They both bashfully look away again. Jemma's eyes fall to the young woman standing a few feet behind Fitz with her hands on her hips.

"Skye!" Jemma says brightly, "It's so nice to see you!"

"It's Daisy," her friend says automatically. She raises a finger and looks between them. "And are we _not_ going to talk about what just happened?"

"Glad you could finally make it," Fitz coughs, turning and smiling broadly at their friend. "Took you long enough. We've already taken a couple Skrull out ourselves. Hardly need you lot anymore."

She stares at him, mouth hanging open, entirely unimpressed. "So that's a no. We're not going to talk about it. Seriously?"

" _Daisy,_ we were just wondering when you'd show up," Jemma chirps. "You'll find there's one particularly disgruntled Skrull detained in the medical tent over there. He's just waiting to be carted off by one of our top agents. Someone just like you, _Daisy_."

The dark-haired woman frowns and starts to turn towards the medical tent, but then stops and shakes her head. "Hold on, no. You can't butter me up by using my real name… Were you two just _making out_?!" Fitz and Simmons look at each other. They both open their mouths to say something, but stop, shrugging mid-smile. Their friend pinches her fingers to the bridge of her nose."You know what, no, never mind," she says dismissively. "I'll just block this from my memory. There's so much else going on right now that I can't go near this one with a ten-foot pole."

Jemma continues to beam at Fitz. She never noticed how particularly blue his eyes were. He licks his lips, and she smiles up at him. They'd somehow started to close the distance between them again.

"Guys! Oh for god's sake," the woman now known as Daisy marches between them and grabs them each by the arm, holding them apart. "You two have _the_ worst timing in the world. _How_ many years did you idiots have to figure this out, and you pick the _middle_ of an alien invasion. _Seriously_." She drags them off behind her, muttering to herself.

* * *

The team sits around the back of the crash site of the tattered Skrull shuttle. They are all in different states of disrepair. Hunter stands next to a badly beaten Bobbi, face sullen and arms crossed. She leans against a rock with her bad leg propped up on one of the spare packs, eyes glazed, dark, and staring at nothing in particular. May stands over the detained green man wearing Coulson's suit, glowering down at him. Andrew sits close by, head held in his hands. Mac and Rick complete the circle, standing next to each other in stony silence.

Daisy brings Fitz and Simmons in, carefully making them stand with her and Lincoln between them so that they don't get any ideas. Fitz notices MarVell standing off to the side of the group, pacing.

Coulson addresses the team while flexing his robotic arm, testing it. "From what we can gather, the Skrull began invading Earth almost a year ago. According to Rick and MarVell, they believe Earth is promised to them because of some Prophecy that was written back when their home planet was destroyed." He drops his arm to his side, pleased enough with how it's working. "They also want Earth to piss the Kree off," he shrugs. He looks up, addressing each member of his team in turn. "So we have to be careful. These guys are desperate and they've come a long way. We don't know the extent to which they've implemented their plans, but based on what we've all experienced, we have to assume that it goes far deeper than we expected." He turns. "Because of Agent Simmons' good work, we actually have a chance to make a big impact on them today," Coulson nods to Simmons, and Fitz notices the blush creep up her cheeks.

Fitz watches her glance around the circle shyly. She catches him staring at her and the pit of his stomach swoops with the way she looks back at him. He hides his smile behind the hand that's resting against his mouth. His lips still tingle from the heated kiss they had just shared. Someone nudges his arm, and he turns, irritated, to see Daisy staring pointedly at the two of them like they're toddlers in trouble. He shrugs and she shakes her head, returning attention to what Coulson is saying.

"I'm not going to sugar coat it, we're all in pretty rough shape," the Director says. "Still, we need a plan. We know a Skrull ship landed just over the ridge almost half an hour ago, and we've sent a scout to learn more. MarVell, you're on point. Tell us what you need."

"Numbers. Resources," the big Kree man says, sauntering over from the side of the crashed shuttle. "The Skrull are deceptive and they're extremely advanced. I don't know if there's much we can do with what we've got right now," he motions to the group.

"There are more than enough of us to take them on," Daisy says, lifting her chin.

"We just need a fast way to take out as many as we possibly can," Rick agrees, face hard.

"Fire power and brains," Hunter snorts. "I'd say we have a good mix of both. I'm sure our scientists could whip something up to give us the right edge, yeah?"

Fitz's eyes wander back over to Jemma, and he takes note of how she's now actively trying to avoid his gaze.

"Fitz?"

His eyes snap back to the group. "Right. Sorry. Um... Definitely, we could put something together, yeah."

Jemma's bright brown eyes finally land on his, and he makes a valiant effort to focus on their mission. He tries to push away the memories he has of kissing her. He tries not to think of how sweet she tasted, or the way her hands pulled him in closer, how soft her skin was against his, how he's not sure if he would have ever stopped kissing her if Daisy hadn't interrupted them, and of all the things he would have wanted to do if they'd had more time…

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Jemma splutters, righting herself. He looks up and sees that she'd accidentally stood on Lincoln's foot and stumbled while standing. Her face is beet red, making him grin from ear to ear. He'd almost forgotten that he should be more careful to censor his thoughts around her. Daisy rolls her eyes at the two of them.

Suddenly a small red-headed man pops up in the middle of the circle, breathing heavily as if he's run a great distance. Simmons jumps with a yelp, holding her hand to her heart.

"I followed her past the forest," the small man says, panting. "Almost all the way to the Village."

"Sorry," Dasiy chirps, clearly not as sorry as she could be. "This is Larry. He's one of the new recruits. He can go invisible, so he made the best scout."

"He followed Bobbi when she ran," Hunter spits.

Lincoln looks at him and continues on for the sake of the rest of the group. "We didn't realize she'd been doubled until we got here and saw the real Bobbi." Hunter skuffs his foot in the dirt. "She ran before we even understood what was happening."

Fitz watches the concern spread over Simmons' face. He'd give quite a bit to listen to what she was thinking right now.

"How many are there?"

"Including Bobbi? I'd say at least twenty," Larry says.

"That seems like overkill for a simple backup mission," May points out.

"The Skrull must be going right for the Vibranium mound," MarVell agrees.

Coulson nods. "We have to figure out a way of diverting their attention back here. We have to be smart about this."

"I may have a way to stop them," Rick says. "The portal. We can reverse-engineer it. If we figure out a way to lead them over to it, we'll set it up to send them straight back into the Negative Zone. Problem solved."

Mac nods along, shifting his weight. "But those winds were strong before when Simmons and MarVell came through," he reminds them. "Won't it pull everyone in with it?"

Rick considers for a moment. "We'll send up a flare when it's go-time. So long as everyone knows to hang on to something, we should all be okay. We have the element of surprise on _our_ side this time."

"Okay," Daisy nods, starting to pace in excitement as the plan forms. "How do we get them to follow us back to the portal, then?"

"We provide some incentive," Lincoln says. "Create a diversion that bottlenecks them back this way while the others prepare the portal."

"I can help with that," Simmons volunteers, eyes peeling away from Bobbi.

"Absolutely not!" Fitz barks almost instantaneously. He didn't realize how loudly he'd said it until a hush falls over the group. He shifts his weight.

"Excuse me?" Simmons turns to him slowly, narrowing her eyes.

"Well- I- It'll be too dangerous," he stammers, realizing all eyes are on him.

Jemma crosses her arms over her chest. "What do you mean by too dangerous, Fitz?" The warning in her voice is enough to make him try to back down, but he pushes forward.

"I-" Her eyes narrow, but he shrugs, narrowing his eyes right back at her. What if she gets caught in the crossfire, or captured and he can't find her again? What if there's a battle and she has to fight her way out. She's strong in many ways, but a fighter she is not.

"Do you not think I can look after myself, then?"

"No," he says angrily back. "That is, you _can_ , but it's not worth the risk. I need you. With me. T-to help with the portal," he says, glancing around the circle for support. "You helped before, and you know how it's linked to the Negative Zone better than anyone."

"Honestly, Fitz, we're not glued at the hip," she bites back, exasperation dripping from every word. "I can help in this. Since when do you get to decide for me, anyways?"

His mouth hangs open. He knows well enough not to answer that question, but he feels trapped. Since when? Since he realised she was the most important thing in his life and he'd do anything to protect her. Anything. He begins to panic, trying to think of some reason to keep her away from harm. "B-but what if we can do this in a safer way?" He manages to say. A plan begins to form in his mind. "What if… What if you send me instead to redirect the Skrulls?" He can't look at her, because she knows what's going on in his mind. She starts to shake her head, so he turns to the others, appealing to their common sense.

"Fitz, that's…"

"No, listen," he snaps his fingers to emphasize his point. "They still think that Me, Coulson and May are one of them, yeah? We could go, the three of us, pretend we're still Skrulls and just convince them to come this way first. That'll give you all time to set up the trap. It's quick and it's harmless."

Simmons rolls her eyes dramatically when he finishes, but then stops and looks around the circle in disbelief as the others begin to nod in agreement.

"You know, he's got a point…"

"No!" Simmons says in surprise. "You can't all honestly believe this is a good plan," she says haughtily. "What if something goes wrong? Fitz hasn't even done proper undercover work before and-"

"Then we have the rest of you here to fight as backup," Fitz says, looking to Hunter. "If it even comes to that."

Coulson nods slowly, tapping his fingers against his arm. "I have to say, it's our safest option right now. Simmons, you did help with the portal earlier, right?"

"Well yes, in a way, but I hardly think-"

"Good. It's settled then. Simmons will stay and work with Rick and Mac to reverse the portal back to the Negative Zone. Larry will lead Fitz, May and I to the Skrull camp where we'll convince them to follow us back. If anything goes wrong, the rest of you will be on standby to intervene if necessary."

"Sir, can I _please_ just-" Jemma lifts a finger, trying to cut in, but Coulson stares at her, clearly tired with the bickering.

"Agent Simmons, this is the best option right now, and we're running low on time. We need you focused, not arguing."

She closes her mouth and purses her lips, staring blankly ahead. With a firm nod from Coulson, the team is dismissed to prepare for the mission.

Fitz walks over to her, rubbing his hands. "Jemma, I-"

She shakes her head once, dangerously, and starts walking away from him. He grabs her elbow and spins her around.

"Jemma."

"What is it Fitz? I have a hike up a cliff to prepare for before it gets dark out, so unless you have some other form of subterfuge to throw at me-"

His eyebrows knit together defensively. "Now that's not fair. You know _exactly_ what I was thinking. I'm only trying to do what's best, trying to keep you safe for once."

"Oh yes, safety is _exactly_ what's best for everyone right now, isn't it?" She rolls her eyes. "Just because I know what you're thinking, doesn't mean I have to agree with it, Fitz." She taps her foot impatiently as he tries to think of a retort. He takes a little too long, so she huffs. "Well you are right about one thing. Nothing about this is fair," she whirls around and storms off before he can say anything else. The path is dusty and almost purple in the early twilight. With an exasperated sigh, he turns too, hurrying so they can get this whole thing over with as quickly as possible.


	10. Boom

**Previously on The Door:**

 _An overwhelmed Simmons finds it impossible to discern which Fitz is which. Understanding that they are out of options, Kesia wakes MarVell, but gets caught in the crossfire. MarVell detains the Skrull-Fitz in a fit of rage before allowing himself to mourn Kesia and what they could have had._

 _Grasping the fact that they won't always have a chance to say what needs to be said, Fitz and Simmons finally decide to seize the moment and do something about their feelings for each other... much to Skye's frustration when she finally arrives._

 _A distracted Fitz and Simmons try to pay attention as the team develops a plan to deal with the Skrull. When Simmons volunteers to help infiltrate the Skrull, Fitz quickly gets the team to agree to a different plan that will keep her behind but put himself in harm's way. Simmons is less than happy with his decision._

* * *

Jemma looks around groggily, her head pounding, her hands and feet tied. Skrull are everywhere. The plan clearly went wrong. Glinting in the moonlight, metallic statues of the Skrull are interspersed with the ones fighting the rest of the Shield members. Their team looks the worse for wear still. May and MarVell are putting up a steady fight, but Lincoln is down, and Daisy is having trouble keeping the group of Skrull that are boring down on them at bay. Hunter and Bobbi seem to be able to keep the few that cross their path down, but the exhaustion and pain are evident in how they fight. They won't last much longer.

A blast of green light emits from the weapon Coulson wields, and another Skrull freezes mid-fight, turning into an eerie metallic statue. It looks as though nearly half of the Skrull army have been metalized at this point. It sends shivers down her spine. It looks like they should be moving. From the corner of her eye, she thinks she sees one begin to shift.

Realizing she hasn't found him in the crowd yet, Simmons looks around frantically for Fitz. A hand presses firmly to her face. "Shh, I'm here. You're fine," he says, kneeling next to her, clearly shaken. "It's all going to be okay." He plants rough kisses against her mouth, relieved to see her alive.

"No, Fitz, stop!" She says against him, pushing him away, fear choking her words. His eyebrows furrow in confusion and alarm as he moves back from her. "You have to get away from here," she tries to explain. "It's a trap!"

He barely has time to process what she says before a streak races out from behind the Quinn Jet towards them. With a sickening thud, he's knocked to the ground.

* * *

 _An hour earlier:_

Fitz looks around the field and takes a steadying breath. Coulson meets his eyes and nods in silent encouragement. The large Skrull ship is in front of them, its passengers marching out around the open space. Fitz, Coulson and May walk through them, heads held high, emitting the air of detached confidence that the other soldiers emanate. A door to the ship opens and a crowd begins to form, so they approach as well. A tall Skrull woman wearing Bobbi's uniform steps regally down. When she sees them coming, she motions for the crowds to part.

"Make way for Queen Verenke," someone shouts. The tall green woman pushes through the crowd and greets the three of them with a short bow.

"Bulgar, Kallax, Ranelle," she nods to Coulson, Fitz, and May in turn. "What report do you have for your Queen?"

Coulson steps forward, keeping his face even and hard. "We managed to detain the camp near the cliffs," he explains. "They will no longer be a problem."

"And what of the princess?" The Queen asks, tilting her head like a snake, eyes narrowed.

Coulson and May exchange a blank look, but Fitz steps forward. "She is gone, Queen Verenke. The girl known as Kesia is defeated along with our enemy MarVell."

"Excellent," Verenke grins. "I will no longer need to concern myself with my cousin ever returning to claim my throne," she lets out hiss of relief. "But come, Ranelle, why remain in these primitive forms? Relax in the company of your allies."

"Efficiency is priority now, my queen, not vanity," May says, frowning. She pulls the modified Skrull weapon from her holster and presents it. "While infiltrating the Shield base, we made an important discovery using the knowledge gained from Kallax's human."

Fitz nods, taking over. "By combining Vibranium and Gamma radiation in the weapon's core, it sets off a catalyst on a genetic level that-"

The Queen holds her hand up to stop him. "I forget sometimes how into character you like to get, Kallax," the Queen chuckles. "Please, do not bore us with details. Simply tell us what we need to know."

Fitz lowers his eyes and continues on, gruffly. "This weapon will create your army of Super-Skrull." He looks back up to see the Queen's reaction. She purses her lips, but her eyes light with interest.

"So the theories were true," she says breathlessly. "I require a demonstration," she snaps. One of the Skrull steps forward.

Coulson's breath hitches. "It is best to demonstrate at the site, my Queen," he says. "We have managed to adapt a faster method of delivery. There is a device at the cliffs we have prepared already. Simply follow us back and we will demonstrate."

Queen Verenke looks down at them, clearly irritated. "Lose our position for a simple demonstration? I would much rather spend the time dealing with the villagers so we can collect the Vibranium this country has to offer."

"If I may, my Queen," May says, "once you have your army of Super-Skrull, there will be no need to waste time on the villagers. No one will fight you here. You can simply take what you need."

Verenke's face twists, considering. They all stare straight ahead, not daring to look at each other. This was the moment they needed her to agree to, or their plan would fail before it even began.

"No," Queen Verenke says finally, flicking her long hair. "I admit that I am intrigued, but I find I am only able to trust Skrull. Not human impostors," she sneers. "Whether or not Ranelle's little pet project is viable or not, the Vibranium is priority. Guards!"

She snaps and a group of Skrull step out, circling May, Coulson and Fitz, raising their weapons and taking aim. Fitz gulps, feeling his heart beat leap into his throat. How had their plan gone wrong so fast?

Surrounded, Coulson grabs the modified weapon from May. Without a second to think it through, he shoots Verenke point-blank in the chest. They all blink in disbelief as her body flows with the silver metal, cutting her off mid-cry. The other Skrull pause, watching their Queen gasp her last breath and freezing solidly like a statue. They turn their angry faces back to the trio.

Coulson backs up into May and Fitz who take their defensive positions. "Well it felt like a good idea at the time..." he says. The rest of the Skrull army begins to close in on them angrily, drawing their own weapons and aiming at the three of them.

The sharp cry of a wildcat rips through the air, and the Skrull freeze. Fitz can barely see anything. Outside the circle of light that the Skrull ship provides, it's pitch black.

Suddenly a sparking metallic spear lands with a blast of light into the heart of the metallic statue of the Queen. A rumbling chorus of growls comes from the woods behind them and the Skrull rush towards the sound defensively, weapons drawn. They momentarily forget about the trio of humans. Everyone stares out into the blackness in fear.

One of the Skrull closest to the dark trees lets out a strangled gasp of pain and falls to the ground, clutching his throat. A nearby Skrull creeps over, scared, and turns him over to check his injuries. Three long gashes appear along his neck. The Skrull is dead.

The air bristles with unspoken fear. What was out in the dark forest that could kill a Skrull Warrior with one swipe?

A sleek figure steps forward from the darkness, teeth bared. Wearing a thin suit of dark silver, eyes gleaming in the darkness, ears pronounced like a cat, it stands like a man, stooped in the stance of a warrior. Two more figures slink out of the shadows and crouch next to the first, each wielding spears that crackle with bright dangerous energy. Fitz can see more silhouettes line the edge of the forest, keeping to the shadows, pacing with silent power.

"The Wakandans," Coulson breathes. "It's the villagers."

"Those are the villagers?!" Fitz whispers, his mouth drops open in surprise.

"Well, the warriors, yes. Some of the most advanced fighters in the world."

The first figure steps forward. "This land is forbidden." The voice is a low rumbling growl. "Leave Wakanda at once. You are not welcome here, Skrull."

Two of the green soldiers step forward, weapons drawn, sneering. In the blink of an eye, the cat-like Wakandan lashes out with his hand and large gashes appear along the throats of the Skrull. The army begins to step back as one.

More Wakandan warriors step out into the clearing, and slink forwards. "Leave at once or we will retaliate with force," their leader rumbles. His tone leaves no room for discussion. The Wakandans all crouch at the ready, sleek metallic armour tensed and ready to pounce.

The first Skrull shoots his weapon at the leader with a burst of bright light. The blast is absorbed instantly into his metallic chest. The Skrull take another step back. With a stoic nod, the Wakandan leader gives the signal. A chorus of growls and barks cuts through the night air as the village warriors leap into action, sending their spears and claws slashing out at the alien threat.

The Skrull that don't stop to fight turn and run into the forest. Fitz realises gratefully that this is exactly the direction they need to be pushing them. If they can get all the Skrull to keep running through the forest back to the clearing, they can get them up to the portal. Maybe their plan wasn't so hopeless after all, especially with the Wakandans' help.

Watching the last Skrull run off into the forest, he turns back, ready to join the others to keep pushing the Skrull further, herding them into place. The Wakandans are merely pacing along their line of defence, however, keeping the Skrull safely away from their borders by lashing out when they get too close.

"They don't appear to be going any further!" Fitz says to Coulson.

"No, we shouldn't count on them," Coulson says. "I'm surprised they helped out as much as they have. They're only protecting the Vibranium, but once that threat is passed, we're on our own again. They're generally extremely private. We have to keep going with the plan. Push the Skrull further up the cliff to the portal!"

Fitz growls in frustration as the Wakandans' numbers start to thin out. Many of them slink back into the shadows of the forest, leaving only a couple to deal with the remaining Skrull. "Fine then. The portal's not far," Fitz points out. "Just beyond these trees is where the others should be waiting." He stoops down and picks some small stones from the ground. "We just need to-"

"Fitz, wait!"

Without another thought, Fitz starts throwing the stones at a group of nearby Skrull. They turn, anger and irritation flashing across their faces, and Fitz waves over at them.

"You lot! Over here, I know where more Vibranium is kept, you big dumb green lizards!"

They start moving towards him, huffing in anger, and he turns. At full speed, he runs through the darkness, leaping over fallen branches and low bushes into the trees towards the clearing where the others should be waiting. He sees May and Coulson running next to him, shooting him glares for his rashness. He keeps running, knowing that the rest of the Skrull are close behind.

They finally reach the clearing where a number of the previous Skrull are waiting, huddled in fear. The ground rumbles beneath them. Coulson stops suddenly, causing Fitz to nearly run into him. Understanding dawns on him, and he turns on his heel with a wry grin to May, facing the Skrull with new confidence.

MarVell bursts out of the trees and launches himself at the closest group of Skrull. Fitz almost chuckles as the green soldiers try, too late, to skid to a halt before their heads collide with the big man's outstretched arms. Like bowling pins, they topple to the ground.

Fitz has little time to think though. Coulson grabs his arm and pushes him down to the ground just as a bright laser beam sails over his head. The ground just beside him erupts in a cloud of dust. His head bobs back up, and when the dust clears, he's facing a group of Skrull marching steadily towards them. He stands in position with Coulson, and raises his fists to prepare.

The closest Skrull suddenly flies backwards, and the one next to him yelps as a blue-white bolt of electricity crackles against his chest, forcing him back as well. An outstretched hand appears in the corner of Fitz's vision, and he turns with great relief to see Daisy and Lincoln walk forward into the clearing. Sparks fly from Lincoln's fingers and more Skrull topple to the ground in the wake of Daisy. Fitz ducks as one flies over his head.

"Looks like you guys needed a little backup!" Daisy shouts.

"We won't say no to a little help," Coulson shoots over his shoulder with a wry smile.

Just behind Coulson, Fitz can see the human blur that is May. She's raging like a madwoman against two Skrull warriors. Spinning out of the way at the last moment, the warriors collide into each other, allowing her to grab one of their weapons and shoot them both in the shoulder. With a sizzle of flesh, they're stunned and stay down. She curls her body into a crouch, launching herself at another group coming up behind them.

Bobbi and Hunter inch forward with their heavy-duty icers, firing at the Skrull. It only takes them a few solid hits to realise that even the modified icers have no effect on the green warriors. The pain on her face masked by sheer determination, Bobbi kicks up at the head of the nearest Skrull while Hunter aims low and knocks the warrior down at the knees. They turn to face the next.

"Fitz, on your left!" Fitz steps out of the way just as a Skrull barrels through where he was just standing. He lands a well-placed punch into the Skrull's back, and Coulson brings his robotic arm out, aiming for his stomach.

A sizzle of flesh is accompanied with a cry of pain close by, and Daisy's voice echoes in the clearing, "Lincoln!" A group of Skrull fly through the air. Dodging another blow, Fitz watches his friend kneel to check on the other inhuman, her face twisted with concern when he doesn't get up.

Fitz doesn't have time to watch any more as a Skrull grabs hold of him and he tries to leap away. To his surprise, the Skrull lets go and stumbles backwards. It starts swatting blindly in the air and gets knocked to the ground, thrown back in the dirt. Just as understanding dawns on Fitz, Larry reappears with a wink, and turns on his heel, disappearing again towards another group of Skrull. Fitz kicks forward, his heel connecting with the Skrull's jaw, and it loses consciousness.

"Fitz, get up to the cliff," Coulson shouts. "Go check to see if the portal is ready!"

Fitz nods, but as he starts to head over, he and Coulson watch as one of the Skrull regains consciousness and stands, just behind May, aiming his weapon at her back. Without a second thought, Coulson pulls the modified Skrull weapon out of his back holster and shoots a beam of green light at the Skrull. May turns just in time to watch as it freezes with a metallic glint, silently standing over her. She nods back to Coulson.

"I could get used to this thing!" Coulson crows.

"Over here!" They turn. Coulson tosses the weapon over to Bobbi who aims it at two Skrull that are holding Hunter down. They freeze where they are, and Hunter sighs as he remains pinned beneath one of the statues. There's a rip of fabric.

"Oi, I liked that shirt you know," he says as Bobbi rips one of his sleeves to pull him free. She shrugs with a grin and aims the weapon quickly behind her, sending a beam into a group of Skrull. They all freeze mid-run, and she tosses the weapon back over to May who takes out another attacker. May tosses the gun back to Coulson, who swings it in his hand and blows against the gun's mouth with a wink.

"I think we've got this now," he flips the gun in his hand. "Go check on the others, Fitz. We'll be ready to go soon enough."

Fitz nods, returning the grin. A blast and a boom erupt close by. He ducks and forces himself to ignore the sounds of pain echoing behind him as more Skrull arrive in the clearing. He races up the ridge to the cliff face where the portal sits.

"We're back!" He pants. "Is it ready?"

His gut drops when he looks around. Tools are scattered everywhere. Rick and Mac lay unconscious near the packs, and Jemma lay face-down near the edge of the cliff, arms and legs tied. He rushes forward and turns her over. Grabbing her face, he pats her awake. She groggily looks around, confused.

His world slows while she takes in her surroundings, peering down at the scene around them over the cliff. Finally, frantically, her eyes rest on his, and he breathes a sigh of relief, "Shh, I'm here. You're fine," he says, pressing rough kisses all over her face.

"No, Fitz, stop!" She says pushing him away, fear choking her words. "You have to get away from here." His eyebrows furrow. "It's a trap!"

He looks up just in time to see the Skrull woman wearing May's clothes race towards him and knock him to the ground. He rolls, feeling his knees and hands scrape against the rough dirt.

* * *

Jemma shouts as Fitz is tossed backwards. Her heart beats again when he manages to get to his feet. Skrull-May leers at him, green and angry.

"I-I guess I should call you Ranelle then?" Fitz says shakily as he wipes the dirt off his forehead.

The woman sneers at him. "Glad we can do away with all the pretense, finally."

Fitz looks over to Jemma. She can feel the fear and rage coursing through him like waves. He takes a deep breath and launches himself forward, eyes dark. His fist lands squarely against the Skrull's cheek, and he kicks at her knees, forcing her to fall forward. Jemma can't quite believe her eyes. He's never fought like this before, not that she's seen. What had he actually been up to while she was away?

It takes them both a few more hits to realize that the Skrull named Ranelle isn't fighting back. She simply takes each angry blow with a grunt. Finally, as Fitz lashes out with his right fist, she gives a wry smile. Her own hand becomes a blur, and Fitz stops mid-strike, face contorting in pain as the Skrull suddenly has his fist in her hand and crunches down. He cries out in pain, and she spins around him at abnormally high speeds. She knees him square in the back, knocking him forwards. He stumbles, trying to regain his footing, but she's suddenly in front of him again and punches him in the face.

As he reels, trying to wipe the blood from his nose, she sneers down. "I suppose I should really thank you," she says. "You thought you were being so clever in sabotaging the weapon and using it against me. It turns out you did fix it in the end. You really are very good at what you do."

He stumbles forward, winded, aiming an exhausted fist at her. She dodges easily and shakes her head. "Lets not do this again. We both remember how it ended last time, and that was before I received your special little gift."

At the look of confusion clouding Fitz' tired features, Ranelle turns. In a blur, she appears back at the top of the cliff. She snarls then runs back like a flash. Understanding dawns on Fitz' face at the same time as Simmons. The modified weapon he had used to stop her in the shuttle hadn't actually stopped her like he thought. It gave her powers, just as she hoped it would. His eyes dart to the clearing over the cliff in horror. Simmons balks in understanding. More than half the Skrull army below had been hit with the weapon by now. How long did they have before the metallic effect wore off and they were hit with an army of super-powered Skrull?

Ranelle holds Fitz by the collar of his shirt, and Jemma struggles frantically against her bonds, loosening the rope around her hands.

"I'll admit, you're better than I thought," Ranelle says. "But you're still just not good enough." She spits in his face and aims a final blow. Jemma can see in her mind how calculated it is. It will end him, fulfilling the vengeance searing through the Skrull that had been developing since she first met the irritating engineer and had hit a crescendo when he'd got the better of her on the shuttle. There's a loud clang, and Ranelle suddenly drops Fitz in a heap as she's struck from behind.

Mac flips the big wrench in his hand, aiming it again over his shoulder like a bat. Ranelle turns her scowl to him.

Rick runs over to Jemma with the pack of tools and helps her untie her legs. "Go get him and finish with the portal," he says quickly. "We'll deal with her."

Jemma gratefully grabs the pack and Rick runs over to help Mac fight off the angry Super-Skrull.

Fitz is lying in a heap on the ground, eyes not focused on anything. She can see him breathing, so she grabs his face in her hands. "Fitz, come on. What are you doing?"

"It's all over, Jemma, we can't beat them. It's all my fault. I thought I'd damaged the weapon, but I just -" his eyes cloud over. "Do you know how many Skrull are about to gain powers down there? We can't beat them."

"Oh come off it, Fitz, of course we can beat them," she says, hoping she sounds encouraging. "So what if they have their own silly upgrades. They don't stand a chance against _us_. We've got something better on our side," she wrinkles her nose mysteriously.

He looks at her, weary, defeated, tired.

" _Science_ , you idiot!"

He closes his eyes and smiles softly.

"Well get up then you lazy lump," she stands and offers him a hand. "You've wasted enough time showing off your own fancy new moves. We've got just a few steps left with the portal."

"You mean…?" he slowly stands next to her.

"Of course I mean…" she laughs and hands him the pack. "We simply need to reverse the wires on the battery again and we're in business. No more Skrull."

"Reverse the polarities?" he says, thinking. "But what about the power surge? It'll need to be amplified to account for all the Skrull going through,"

"Don't you think I would have done that already?"

"Right. Of course. Sorry."

She winks at him. "Come on, Fitz. Let's beat those aliens… with science!"

He laughs at her utter cheeriness and plants a quick kiss on her lips. When he steps back, she smiles widely at the bashful look on his face. She kisses him on the cheek in return and grabs his hand, pulling him along. They jog over to the portal, hand in hand, passed Rick and Mac who are fighting off the super-speedy Ranelle with surprising efficiency.

Simmons opens the panel near the base of the doorway and points out the crossed wires on the battery. He nods with pride, "You did really well, all things considered. Let me just make one small tweak…" He leans forward and makes a few adjustments to the panel, and the door hums suddenly with a white glow.

Fitz stands back and brushes the dirt off his hands. "So after the door is activated and the Skrull go through to the Negative zone… the whole door should go boom?"

"Making sure they can't get back. Exactly," Simmons nods.

"That's brilliant. Really brilliant. You're brilliant. So we've got it?" he says with a grin of disbelief.

"We've got it!" She beams up at him, smacking him in the shoulder bashfully. His eyes gaze over her face with such open pride and affection. Not wasting a moment, he grabs her face in both his hands and gives her a big lingering kiss. She laughs against him but allows herself to lean into his lips. When they break apart, they're both panting slightly. He leans his forehead against hers.

"Okay," he says, still catching his breath. "So we have to go set the flare to let everyone know it's ready to go. Are you ready?"

She meets his eyes and nods. Stepping away from him, she grips the flare gun in her hands and jogs over to the edge of the cliff. "You've got our position ready?" She checks. He grins and tightens the rope around the tree near the doorway.

They nod to each other, and he winks. "Let's send these little green men to hell!"

Jemma lifts her arm over her head and pulls the trigger of the flare gun. A bright red orb shoots out from the end of it and blazes through the night sky, high above their heads. She looks out over the field, and watches as their team takes notice and drops to the ground. They quickly find their positions, holding on to nearby trees and stones. The remaining Skrull stop, confused, watching the flare soar through the darkness.

Certain that the others are safe, Jemma nods back at Fitz, eyes blazing happily in the red glow. But what she sees when she turns makes her heart turn to stone. The Skrull, Ranelle, had been too quick. She had noticed the others drop to the ground and took immediate action. She was now racing like a streak, eyes out for blood, straight towards the doorway and Fitz.

Jemma has no time to think. She runs. Fitz stares back at her in confusion as she runs past his outstretched hand, waiting for her to return to him before he pushes the button to open the portal.

"Fitz! Do it! Press it!" She runs forward and miraculously manages to tackle the super-speeding Skrull to the ground in the middle of the empty clearing. She grapples against the woman, grasping for her limbs, fighting tooth and nail to detain her long enough for Fitz to complete their mission unharmed.

It's as though the world has slowed. She can see his thoughts very clearly. It clicks into place like a punch to the stomach what Simmons has done. His mind starts going a mile a minute, trying to puzzle his way out of another problem. She sees the instant he realizes what will happen as soon as he hits the button. It feels worse than a thousand bullets, hollow and too painful to fully accept. She sees him try to sort out what will happen if he doesn't push the button, if he runs to help her instead. His mind starts to spiral, unable to hold onto a single strain of thought, ticking away the milliseconds he has to decide what to do.

"It's okay, Fitz. You must! There's no time!"

His eyes flit to the Skrull statues that have already begun to move, limbs stretching as the metallic coating melds into their new super-powered bodies. The other Skrull have already turned their heads back to the Shield members, clueing in that something was wrong. His eyes move to the team, huddled and hanging on to their posts. They're vulnerable and almost beaten. Another few moments with these new, stronger Skrull in the mix would not only destroy the people he has come to know as his family, but would likely set loose the Super-Skrull on the world. There would be no warning, no hope. Just a swift, sudden claim over the Earth that not even the Avengers would see coming.

His full eyes bore into hers as she manages to hold the Skrull woman down in the middle of the field with all the fiery strength she contains. The depth of his pain nearly destroys her right then when he realizes there's nothing he can do. His eyes stay locked on hers as he lowers his shaking hand. She nods with a soft smile, and he slowly presses the button.

The door hums to life with a roar of wind. He holds tightly to the tree next to him, but remains silent, tears streaming down his face as she feels the wind whip her hair forward. With a tug, the wind starts to pull her towards the doorway. She ducks her head as other Skrull start being pulled in from across the field, up from over the edge of the cliff. She's lifted into the air with a lurch. She releases Ranelle, knowing the force of the wind will send her where she needs to go.

Fitz's eyes remain on Jemma's as she flies forward too. He reaches out a hand from his position, trying desperately to grab hold of her. She reaches out too, but knows it's hopeless. Even to know she's tried one last time is enough for her though, and she prays it's enough for him. One last demonstration of their love for each other, of all the things they could have hoped for together, another sad ending to another world gone wrong.

To her surprise, the tips of his fingers brush against hers. Like a fire's been lit beneath her, she throws all her weight into grabbing hold of him. They both shout into the wind, eyes holding onto each other, but she still feels the world rush away. The wind whips against her face, stinging her eyes. Not trusting what she sees, he leaps forward and the ends of rope whips through the air, his mouth calling her name desperately. Feeling his strong hand gripping hers tightly, black molten rock wraps itself around her vision and the world fades to black, the sound of a single heartbeat pulsing in her ears.


	11. Home

**Previously on The Door:**

 _Fitz, Coulson and May infiltrate the Skrull base, but their plan quickly goes wrong. With brief help from the Wakanda Warriors, Shield fights the Skrull using the weapon that Fitz modified. They push them towards the portal that Simmons, Rick and Mac are reverse-engineering._

 _Checking to see if the portal is ready to be switched on, Fitz walks right into a trap set up by May's Skrull Double, Ranelle, who gained super-powers from the weapon Fitz modified._

 _Simmons encourages a defeated Fitz to keep fighting in the way they know how - with science. Mac and Rick distract Ranelle to allow Fitz and Simmons to quickly finish adjusting the portal to send the Skrull to the Negative Zone and destroy itself in the process._

 _Just as the team is in position, Ranelle takes a last leap at Fitz. Simmons manages to cut her off, but in order to save the team and protect the world from an army of Super-Skrull, Fitz has no choice but to open the portal, sending Simmons through the door as well._

* * *

With a whoosh and a flip of his stomach, Fitz knows he's awake. Sharp wails fill his ears, and he knows with certainty that there's no return to the unfit sleep he had just managed to drift into. Opening one eye, he covers his face with his hands, rubbing away the sleep. He turns his head to the lump of pillows next to him hopefully.

"It's your turn," her voice croaks sleepily without any hint of movement.

With a long yawn he sits up, and then throws himself over to her side of the bed. She squirms as his weight flops against her. "Fitz..."

"'m getting up," he mumbles, lifting one knee lazily over her legs so that he's straddling her over the comforter. He doesn't have to look to know that irritation dances across her face. She rolls her body over so that she's looking up at him, causing him to lose his balance as he tries to shift over her to the other side of the bed. With feigned exhaustion, he flops the rest of his weight down, trapping her beneath him, limbs sprawled. He nestles his face into the pillow just above her shoulder and releases an exaggerated a snore.

"You ass!" Jemma groans, jabbing her fingers into his sides. He snorts and squirms in protest, but she's relentless. "Get off me you big oaf," she hisses, trying to keep her face straight so she can go back to sleep.

"Calm down, calm down. Hands off me, woman!" He grins. Finally managing to capture her wrists, he pulls them up away from his sides, pinning her arms to the pillows next to her face. He lifts himself up so he's balanced on his knees looking down at her with a twinkle in his eye. Her expression makes him laugh cheekily, and he leans down to plant big extra-wet kisses all over her face.

"Mm!" She squinches her face in protest against his sloppy kisses, trying to angle away. When she can't suppress her laughter anymore, she gives in and lets him slobber over her cheeks and chin. Just when he thinks he's won their little battle, though, she grins and rubs her wet face against his, then gives him a quick peck on the lips. "It's been a while since you were this awake first thing in the morning," she laughs at his disgruntled, damp expression.

"Has it?" He considers, wiping his face dry. "Now that just doesn't sound right..." he leans down and kisses her again, properly this time. She sighs happily against his lips, then deepens the moment. He trails his hands down her wrists and along her sides, brushing soft kisses down the side of her neck.

The whine from down the hall starts up again, and they both stop. He drops his forehead against hers with a heavy sigh. "And that would be my cue." He kisses the tip of her nose and pushes himself up and off of her. "Duty calls."

She props herself up on one elbow and watches him as he stretches. Before turning away, he catches her eye with a sly wink. Instead of the happy smile he's expecting in return, though, her face freezes in sudden confusion and alarm.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just..." she shakes her head. "Just an odd sense of déjà vu I guess."

He shrugs and kisses her cheek. "You're just remembering all the other mornings we were interrupted," he says, finally standing. Not bothering to put his slippers on, he stumbles sleepily down the hall, thinking of the hot tea waiting to be brewed downstairs in just a few minutes' time.

"Fitz!" she calls down the hallway, "did you remember to-?"

"Ye-es," he calls over his shoulder, opening the door and tripping over the pieces he hadn't put away from the night before. He curses under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing!" He shoots back. The bloody monstrosity lay across the floor like a death wish. All pink and purple and bits of glitter taunting him. He glares, removing a sharp piece of plastic from between his toes and rubbing his foot. A _play_ -castle. He scoffs. In all his years, he had never encountered something so malicious. He had a degree in this for God's sake!

He curses again, loudly, and a simpering sob issues from the crib. He sighs. Nimbly stepping through the evil obstacle course, he manages to cross the room unscathed.

"I know, I know, that was a bad word," he says lifting the beautiful crying mess up from the crib into his arms. "Don't worry," he says brightly, "bad words scare monsters away!" He drops his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "but don't tell mum I said so." Wiping the toddler's small wet cheeks, he bounces his arms and heads back for the door.

Fitz flips a pancake as she slinks into the kitchen. "Morning beautiful," he says with a wink. She stifles a yawn and pulls her robe tighter around her soft belly with a dismissive chuckle.

"Well isn't this a pretty picture," she says looking around the room in exaggerated surprise. "It should be Sunday mornings all the time. Where are the minions of chaos I'm used to?"

"Minions of chaos? I resent that. We've been angels of perfection, as ever. Here," he says handing her a hot mug. "Your mum called."

She winces and sips sleepily before she stops. Concern clouds her features again.

"Don't look at me, she's your mother," he says, holding his hands out in defense. Jemma looks at him, startled, and glances around their small kitchen.

"What?" he says, realizing it's something else. She blinks and shakes her head as he slides a pancake onto the platter. "Déjà vu again?"

"Mmhmm..." she mumbles and waves her hand dismissively. "For the life of me I can't think why this keeps happening," she grins thinly. "I don't think we've ever had such a relaxing morning." He watches her carefully, handing over the hot plate. That was the tone she used when she was trying to distract herself. Something was off.

She places her mug and the pancakes on the table and leans over the cooing toddler, burying her face into the dark curls. Eyes closed, she breathes in deeply, making his heart swell for perhaps the thousandth time. When she stands back up, he just notices the sniffle of her nose and the way she quickly brushes a finger against her cheek. She smiles back at him, too brightly.

"Jem," he looks directly at her. "What is it?"

"Fitz, please, let's just enjoy this lovely morning. We get so few lately."

"Nope, not buying it," he says, walking out from behind the counter. "Something's wrong isn't it? Jemma, just tell me."

"It's just..." She looks nervously into his eyes. She opens her mouth and pauses, like she's second-guessing herself. "Nothing. It's nothing. I'm just being silly." She sits down and places a hot pancake on his plate, motioning for him to sit.

He rolls his eyes at her and waits, eyebrow raised and arms crossed over his chest. She avoids looking at him, busying herself by pushing stray cheerios into neat rows along the table. He remains as he is, boring a hole into the side of her head with his expression. She presses her mouth into a thin line, and he silently counts to three in his head.

"Fitz," she locks her eyes with his, and her face melts fear, eyes welling up with tears. "W-what is our daughter's name?"

It takes him a moment, but he laughs dismissively. "Jemma you nearly gave me a heart-attack with all that! You know her name. You picked it yourself, didn't you?"

"Yes, of course. Just being silly," she looks down quickly, wiping her eyes. After a pause, she looks back up at him, eyes heavy. "But then... what _is_ it?"

He opens his mouth to speak, and realizes nothing comes to mind. His stomach turns to ice. He looks over at the small girl with dark hair and bright blue eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Fitz. Please, let's forget that I-"

"Oh you just _had_ to ruin a good thing, didn't you?" an old gravelly voice chirps.

Fitz turns, eyes wide. There's a little old man sitting on the counter in their kitchen who hadn't been there moments before. "Wh-what the _hell_ is going on?"

The old man hops off the counter. His short stature barely reaches Fitz's shoulder. He tosses his wild gray hair out of his face to reveal features that are lined so heavily with wrinkles that his twinkling eyes are mostly just slits. He grins a wide toothless grin up at Fitz and taps the side of his nose knowingly. "Nope, sorry! Not the right question yet! Try again."

Fitz glances behind him, positioning himself between the counter and the table protectively. "What are you bloody doing in our house, then?" He growls. "How the hell did you get in?"

"Closer, but still no. One more try..." the man starts hopping lightly between his feet, knobbly knees knocking happily together.

Jemma stands slowly and steps over to Fitz. He holds a hand out to keep her from going forward, and glares dangerously at the old man. "I don't understand! What-?"

"-Fitz…" Jemma carefully holds his hand in both of hers, tears brimming out of the corner of her eyes. He turns and searches her somber face, fighting back panic.

"Aha, I think she's got it!" the old man snaps, grinning cheerfully.

Fitz looks up from their joined hands and back at the little old man with supreme irritation and confusion. Jemma lifts a soft, comforting hand to his cheek and turns his face to her. He cautiously slides his eyes back to hers, breathing deeply.

"Fitz. W-what's the last thing you remember before this morning?"

His eyes look between hers, not sure what she's getting at. But it comes back to him in a burst, and he nearly doubles over from the shock of it all. The cliffs. The Skrull. The wind. The portal. The feeling of his heart being ripped from his chest. He stumbles away from her, and she lets her hands drop. He looks back over to their kitchen table in fear and confusion, but it's gone. It's just the three of them. Fitz, Jemma and the little old man, surrounded by a field of blinding white nothing.

Fitz runs frantically to where the kitchen table was. "J-Jemma, what's happening? Where's-?" He gasps for air, trying to form a word. He still can't remember their daughter's name. "Oh God! _Where is she_? What's happening?"

Jemma hugs herself, "I'm so sorry, Fitz. I'm so sorry."

Finally piecing the sparse information together, Fitz stops searching the empty space and just stands still for a moment. When his breathing slows, he crumples onto his knees and holds his head in his hands, not able to look at her just yet. "W-We don't have a -" he closes his eyes, "do we? T-That wasn't real?"

He can feel Jemma looking over at him. She sniffles once and then tentatively rests a hand on his shoulder, sinking down to her knees next to him. They sit in silence for a few moments, just holding onto each other, neither of them sure what to say or how to feel.

"He very literally would do anything for you, y'know?" The old man says to Jemma, cutting into their silence. "Jumped right in after you to certain death after opening that portal. Nearly screwed up my whole plan," the man chuckles softly. "It would almost be sweet if it didn't make things so complicated. You young people have no patience."

"W-who are you?" Fitz finally manages, his voice a deadly growl.

"Ah, there it is, the right question!" The man cackles. Jemma glares up at him, and the man rolls his eyes. "Honestly I'm almost insulted you don't recognize me, sweetheart. And I thought we got so close." She smirks defiantly, continuing to glare.

"Does this ring any bells?" The wiry old man suddenly melts in front of their very eyes and turns into a tall black rock with deep impressions in its sides.

Not expecting this at all, Fitz and Simmons blink, unsure if they can take any more surprises. With a slosh, the rock turns back into the wiry little old man with knobbly knees. They stare at him, open-mouthed.

"I know. Worst power ever, right?" the man says, flicking a piece of dirt off of his wrinkled pants. "You really get the luck of the draw with those Terrigen Crystals. But I suppose it does have its uses," the man shrugs lightly.

Fitz and Simmons look at each other. Fitz gets carefully to his feet and takes a firm step towards the old man, jaw set firmly. "That was _you_? You're the Kree rock?!"

"In the flesh! Well, sort of…"

Fitz rushes forward, fists clenched, ready to lash out at the little old man. Simmons leaps up and holds Fitz back as the man ducks.

"What the hell?!" Fitz yells, gnashing his teeth, allowing Jemma to hold onto his arm. " _You're_ the one that put us through all this? Why? How?"

"It's kind of a long story," the old man says, twiddling his thumbs. "Well, okay, maybe not," he pauses, considering. "The Kree have this leader," he continues with a smile and a shrug. " _The Supreme Intelligence_ \- bit of an ego on that one to be honest - Saw the whole Skrull war becoming a problem and they needed a bit of help. So I was asked, and I did what I do."

"Which is what exactly?" Fitz asks, glowering.

Simmons nods, eyebrows knitted together, "And why involve us?"

The old man grins knowingly, looking pointedly at each of them in turn. "Can you _blame_ me? I've barely had any entertainment since they put me on that freighter decades ago. And then _this kid_ walks in all flustered," he points to Fitz and wheezes with amusement, "and asked you out, and you didn't _get it_!" He slaps his knee and puts a hand to his forehead, grinning. "I just... how could I _not_ have a little fun?"

"Fun? _Fun_! That's what you call _fun_?!" Fitz spits furiously, a dangerous shade of red. "We both nearly _died!_ Multiple times! For all I know we could be dead right now, actually!"

"Oh calm down, you're not dead," the man waves dismissively. "Tell me you don't feel like you've at least grown a bit as people? It was character building!"

"Character building! Oh, that's rich coming from a big inanimate object!" Fitz tries to move forward again, but Simmons holds his arm back firmly.

"Touché," the man shrugs. "But in all fairness though, the timelines _did_ fit with you two. She had the right skills to help that MarVell character, you had the right determination to find her, and together you knew the right people to get the job done…" he sighs happily. "It's funny. As much as a person can know about the inner workings of the universe, it still manages to send little gifts now and then!" The man rocks back and forth on his feet proudly.

Fitz turns away in a huff and paces angrily, rubbing the space between his eyes.

"So what did you do, exactly?" Simmons asks. "What's your particular power?"

"Well I transport people, for starters," the man says cheerily. "Bit of a tell with that one. But because of that, I do have an eye on the big picture to know where to send people," he skips, eyes twinkling. "I can go anywhere in time and space. See who needs a hand. And _that_ , let me tell you, is quite something."

Fitz stops pacing and turns to face the old man with hands on is hips. "So you're basically a Tardis?"

"A What? No, I'm human! How _dare_ you start calling an old man names."

"But you're a rock..."

"Well, technically, if you're being persnickety about it. But I do have feelings you know. A soul."

"A Tardis does too..."

"What the hell is a Tardis? No! I have a _name_! Eldrac. They used to call me Eldrac. Eldrac _the Door,_ " he finishes with a pompous nod.

"So you're Inhuman then?" Simmons asks.

He harumphs, but then pauses, thinking it over. "Is that what they're calling it these days? Fine. I suppose I am. I'm practically ancient y'know, so excuse me for not being up on all the lingo and whatnot. And trust me," he whispers loudly to Simmons, "I did not get around a lot before that freighter. Really hard to move around when you have no legs!" He hops as though he's told a great joke and starts skipping in a circle.

"So how are you... er... That is, how do you look human right _now_?" Simmons raises a hand to get him to stop moving around. "Are you a shape-shifter? Did the process reverse itself?"

"Lord no!" He slows and sits on the ground. "Still solid as a rock. Always will be." He rolls his eyes, " _Gag_ , am I right? No, we're not really in any real place right now, so I get to look how I want. It's more of a… A little bit of imagination mixed in with a splash of mental... insanity? Power? Not necessarily real, but it works well enough for my purposes right now. I figured I'd get a much better reception looking like this than all -" he morphs back into the stone again for half a moment and chuckles when they both jump.

Fitz glares dangerously as the little man gains control of his laughter in human form. "So why are we still here then? You've had your _fun_."

"To be honest I've grown a bit attached to you two. Wanted to see things work out well," the old man sighs. "The _Supreme Intelligence_ owed me a favour for helping out with the whole Skrull business, so I stepped in before you got sucked into the Negative Zone again without my protection." He looks between them. "You're _welcome_ , by the way." Eldrac sighs again as Fitz and Simmons exchange a look. "I just thought I'd take you somewhere you really wanted to go, y'know?" Fitz shifts uncomfortably, glancing at Jemma, then Eldrac. "Hey, I didn't pick it, and _you_ weren't even supposed to come along for the ride, so don't look at me like that!"

"Okay, but, so… so now what?" Fitz lifts his hands in exasperation. "We're just stuck here in limbo forever, or are you going to send us back?"

"Now… hmm.. Well, you two together are far too clever for your own good. She wouldn't have noticed a thing if you hadn't been there to poke holes at my little version of reality. Would have been happy as a clam. But now I suppose you've got a choice ahead of you," he says turning to face Jemma. "Where would you like me to send you back to?"

He snaps his fingers and two glowing screens appear in the bright white air in front of them.

"Behind door number one, we have the quiet happy life you've been pining after," he gestures grandly to one screen as it begins to replay their morning. Fitz watches as he tries to put together the play-castle later in the day while their daughter throws the pieces around her room. "Precious little what's-her-name… For real this time though. I'd just send you back right on in to that universe and you wouldn't know a thing were different. You would never have signed up to go into the field and you would both only ever know the happy, safe little family life."

He snaps his fingers and the second screen hums with energy. It replays highlights of their time in the field. Their first mission stopping Mike at Union Station. Working together to find a cure before Simmons leaped from the plane. Smuggling Coulson's toolbox out of the Playground. The dozens of longing glances they had each missed. Their heated kiss outside the tent.

"Behind door number two, you get the sexy life of super-scientists cum super-agents: saving the world in the face of danger. Making a difference. You'll have your team, your reputations, you'll make the world a safer place, _but_ you'll never know which mission will be your last…"

The man bows with a dramatic flourish, then hops out from behind the two screens in excitement. "So… which is it? Which one feels like home?"

Fitz blinks and looks between the two screens, and then back at Jemma. She looks so scared, frozen in place. "Why? Why do we have to pick?" He says, stepping forward.

"Excuse you!" Eldrac says with a scoff. " _Her_. She gets to pick, not you. You weren't even supposed to be here!"

Fitz frowns and rests his hands on his hips. He opens his mouth to say something, but Jemma steps forward and the words fall away from his lips at the look on her face.

"We'll be together no matter what?" she asks, eyes shining.

Eldrac shrugs nonchalantly. "Yes, yes of course. Won't make _that_ mistake again." He looks up to the heavens dramatically. "Let the Universe be warned: separate FitzSimmons at your own peril!" He shakes his head, chuckling to himself.

Fitz watches Jemma carefully. She smiles back thinly then turns her back to him, crossing her arms over her chest. She stands between the two screens with her head slightly bowed. He feels like he should go comfort her, but his temper gets the better of him.

"Why is this even a discussion? We already have a real life to go back to."

"Well…" Eldrac taps his foot, "they _are_ equally as real as each other, if we're getting technical again."

"Okay. T-then what about Skye and Coulson and the others? We have to go back to them, see if they're safe."

"Nah, they'll be fine," Eldrac waves a hand. "Honestly, if you pick the other one, they'll just assume you died in the explosion or something. No harm done."

"What?! Jemma, are you hearing this?"

She takes a long, deep breath, then turns slowly to face him. He can see tears streaming down her face.

"I don't know if I _can_ go back Fitz," she says quietly. She looks longingly to the screen with the play-castle. "We're safe here, in this life. We have everything that most people search their entire lives for. We're safe, and we're happy, and we've got each other. Isn't that enough?"

He takes a step closer and rests a hand on her shoulder. "Is this actually what you want though?" He asks, genuinely curious.

She sighs and shrugs with a soft smile. She gestures to the screen. "Here we have nappies and pancakes and phone calls from mum, a-and pta meetings and recitals. And us, Fitz, _us_. Together. Nothing scary or complicated. We're happy and we're safe for as long as we want. Isn't that something _you_ want? Isn't it what you wanted before I signed us up for this whole mess in the field?"

He knits his eyebrows together. Is it what he'd wanted when he had hoped to stay in the lab? Maybe not consciously, but he did know he wanted the possibility. One day. "But what about Skye and the others? You're okay with them just thinking we died?"

"I'll have you," she says quietly.

"Jemma, I'm with you no matter what. That's not even a question," he says, grabbing her hand. "But we were making a difference before. Isn't that why you signed us up in the first place? See the world? Make a difference?"

"Well we saw the world," she says, growing angry. "Perhaps too much of it. Maybe we owe it to ourselves to stay safe and have a chance at a normal life rather than constantly needing to fix everything. We won't get this chance back home. It's not the life we signed up for there."

"But why? Why can't we have both? I'm in love with _you_ , Jemma, and together we -we've figured out harder things before. We'll be together no matter what."

"But for how long, Fitz?" She exhales sharply. "There's danger at every corner! You said it yourself. We've both nearly died multiple times in the last few months alone, and that's not counting all the other near misses we've had over the last two years."

"There always will be danger though. Nothing can stop that. Just, try and think of the world if we'd never joined the field. There would be no icers, to start," he says. "Only lethal bullets lobbing about. There wouldn't be… I don't know, Shield might not exist. There's probably a million things that we invented on the Bus together knowing they'd make the world a better place. The world you want us to go to will be much more dangerous in comparison."

"But it won't affect us," she says grimly.

He stares at her, hard. "But for how long?"

She presses her mouth together into a thin line, and says nothing. On the screen with the play-castle, the little girl giggles musically. Fitz turns to watch as she tries to stand and toddle over to her mother. He stares at her bright blue eyes and sighs, lowering his head to his chest.

"I don't know. Honestly, Jemma, it _is_ up to you. You know I love you no matter what. I'm happy with either option, really. As long as we're together. That's what counts, yeah?"

She hugs herself and looks longingly at the little girl, at the Fitz on the screen that triumphantly manages to get two pieces to stick together for a few seconds. Jemma reaches down and takes his hand in hers, wiping tears from her face. "I'm sorry, Fitz."

Jemma turns to the little old man and takes a deep breath. He winks back and cracks his knuckles with glee. "Alright boys and girls, we have a winner. Hold onto your hats!"

Fitz keeps his eyes on hers as they stand facing each other, holding their hands between them. The two screens silently play in the background. With a soft nod from her, they both shut their eyes tightly and feel a big rush wash over them.

* * *

"So. Where do you plan on going from here?" Coulson asks. He steps out from behind his desk.

"We've got some options in front of us," Rick replies. MarVell is leaning against the back wall of Coulson's office with a somber look. "Back to New York to start. We should hunt down the last remaining Skrull before they regroup themselves. That may take some time."

"Let us know if you need any help with that. I think we can all appreciate just how useful numbers can be after recent events," Coulson says with a tired look.

"We absolutely will."

Simmons stands quietly out in the hallway, gripping her arm nervously. When Rick and MarVell step out of Coulson's office, she rushes forward and gives MarVell a big hug. He nods quietly and wraps his big arms around the small woman.

"You're off then?" She says, stepping back.

"Yes. More work to be done. Earth still needs saving," the Kree nods. Coulson steps out of his office too and they all start walking down the hallway together.

"You'll let us know if you need anything?" she says, falling into step with MarVell. "Fitz and I will send you the Skrull-identifying prototype we're working on as soon as it's ready. He's still in the lab finishing up. You know if you stay a little longer, you can just take it with you."

"Yes, but Carol _is_ waiting for us," Rick reminds her.

"There appears to be more trouble afoot," MarVell agrees. "No rest for the weary, as they say."

She shakes her head with a smile. "Right. Best get back to all that then. No need to stick around this boring old base."

Rick chuckles. "Boring! You may want to check the definition of that word Agent Simmons."

She purses her lips into a tight smile. As they round the corner, Rick places a hand on her shoulder, holding her back for a moment. "I just wanted to say that I'm so glad you're okay, Agent Simmons. Mac and I were so sure you and Agent Fitz had gone through that portal... I'm just - Glad you're still with us," he says matter-of-factly.

"Yes, well…" She glances away quietly, shifting her weight between her feet.

Rick gives her a small nod and walks past her through the doorway. Her eyes follow him, and she sees Fitz standing in the loading dock with Mac and May. She smiles to herself, pleasantly surprised to see him out of the lab, and runs to his side. He grins as she laces her fingers in his. They don't notice the others in the room share an eye-roll together.

"So what do you plan on doing with this big thing?" Mac asks, patting the big enclosure containing the Kree Stone. It's on wheels and packaged neatly to be moved onto the waiting Quinn Jet.

"I think we should send it somewhere far away," Fitz chimes in. "Far, _far_ away." Simmons squeezes his hand tightly, agreeing.

"I hear Tahiti is pretty far," Coulson winks.

"It _is_ a magical place," May agrees with a smile.

"We will drop it off at the secure location we discussed," MarVell says, confused, not understanding the joke between them. "And we will be in touch about the other item when it is time."

With a final nod to the team, Rick and MarVell board the jet. The Shield members all stand back as the plane rolls out of the hanger and takes off into the early evening sky.

"Well, I think that's enough alien business for a good long while, don't you?" Coulson says, facing the rest of the team.

Mac nods emphatically. "I've been ready to stick to Earth for longer than I can remember at this point."

"Be careful what you wish for," Coulson says with a smirk. "That reminds me. Mac, I need you to go get Hunter and Bobbi for me. They've been conveniently tied up for a little too long now. There's a new mission they need to prep for, and I'm tired of walking in on things I'd rather not see."

"You and me both, Director," Mac rolls his eyes. "I'll… get right on that." He shakes his head and steps out of the room, raising an eyebrow at Fitz as he goes. May shares a knowing look with Coulson and walks out after Mac without a word.

"Well?" Coulson says, turning to Fitz and Simmons.

"Well what, sir?" Simmons says, looking up. She'd been momentarily distracted by the thoughts running through Fitz' mischievous head.

"What are you still doing here?" The director looks pointedly at Fitz. "Don't you have…?"

"Right! Er…" Fitz straightens and brings his hand to the back of his head, dropping Simmons' hand in the process and blushing furiously. She looks between the two men, confused.

"Go on. Agent Fitz will debrief you," Coulson says with a cheeky smile and walks off.

"I don't understand. Do we have a mission too?"

"Just, ah, follow me," Fitz says, grabbing her hand back and marching down the hall without looking back. She follows suspiciously, but he keeps his mind annoyingly blank as they walk down the hallway back to the lab.

When he turns the lights on, she gasps. Soft strings of light are hung all over the room, and a thick plaid blanket is laid out in the middle of the floor. Two plates and wine glasses sit on it, next to flasks, beakers and most of their laboratory equipment filled with a whole spread of different foods.

"Fitz…" she breathes.

"Wasn't sure what you'd be in the mood for," he says, rubbing his hands together nervously, "so there's bits of everything. Made it all myself, so…"

She steps into the lab, examining the different dishes. She lifts a flask he's filled with pancake syrup. "Is this even safe?"

"Oh shut it, it's supposed to be romantic," he mumbles, smiling shyly.

"Believe me, it is. Very," she grins up at him, thoroughly impressed. "You even made sandwiches?"

"Got the aioli recipe from your mum, but it doesn't taste the same. I'm pretty sure she left out some things on purpose."

"Traditional Spaghetti, very nice," she nods, moving along the dishes. "And is that-? Did you make Sushi?"

"Er, well... That I didn't make, actually," he says. "Tried to. Found what I thought were decent directions online, but ended up having to order in. It… did not go smoothly. Skye's still trying to clean the kitchen up."

She sees him replay the disastrous attempt at rolling sushi in his mind and suppresses a giggle. She turns to him and wraps her arms around his neck, pressing her lips firmly against his. "Honestly, I don't know how you found the time for all this, but it's perfect, Fitz. Really."

He grins and pulls her closer. "Glad you approve, Simmons." He kisses her again, lingering just a little longer. As their kiss deepens, he pulls her down so they're sitting on the blanket together.

When she slinks her hands down his chest with a sly grin against his lips, he sits up suddenly. "Oh! I almost forgot," he says, snapping his fingers. "Sorry," he chuckles at her pout as he removes himself from her grasp. Reaching over to the counter behind them, he grabs hold of a small remote then nestles back in next to her with a sly grin of his own. "The final touch…" he pushes a button on the remote and a sultry line of music blasts through the lab.

 _I've been really tryin', babe…_

"Gah! What the hell? No, no, no!" he flounders for the remote, turning beet red.

 _Tryin' to hold back these feelings for so long…_

When the remote doesn't work, he dashes over to one of the counters, going for the tablet, but accidentally knocking a bunch of equipment over. Jemma covers her mouth, trying to suppress the laughter bubbling up in her chest.

 _And if you feel, like I feel baby… Then come on, oh! Come on…_

He fumbles, trying to right a bunch of things before they fall off the counter. Finally grasping the tablet, he taps furiously against it to try changing the song.

 _Let's get it on!-_

The music abruptly changes, and he breathes a sigh of relief. Not a beat later, another song blasts suggestively through the speakers. "You have _got_ to be kidding me!" he cries over the music. Jemma's shoulders start shaking from silent laughter.

 _I believe in Miracles! Where you from? You sexy thing…_

"Oh for God's sake!" He furiously stabs at the tablet with his finger one last time and the music turns off completely. He tosses the tablet back to the table and rubs his eyes with his hand. He looks as though he wants to sink into the floor and disappear. " _That_ was not me," he points at the tablet. "Skye must've changed all the titles of the songs on me-"

Jemma bites her lip. "You mean Daisy," she snorts. The look he shoots her finally does it. She can no longer hold back the laughter that bursts out of her mouth. He looks so mortified. She falls back on the blanket in a fit of giggles, openly laughing now.

He shuffles over and sinks down next to her in a huff. "It was supposed to be the string quartet you like," he grumbles. "I found all their albums and had this whole playlist prepared…"

That just makes her laugh harder. He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest, waiting for her laughter to subside. She leans up on her elbows and smiles at him, still giggling. He glares back, but can't completely hide the small twitch at the corner of his mouth as he looks away in feigned disgust.

"It's fine, Fitz! Really," she finally manages to say, trying to steady her breathing. "This whole thing is lovely," she says, gaining control of her laughter and motioning to the spread in front of them. "Here, just-" She sits up and pours some wine into one of the glasses and hands it to him.

He holds the stem of the glass sullenly as she pours her own glass. She raises it to him and grins, biting her lip.

"What are we cheering then?"

"How about… life on this boring old base?" she says.

They both take a sip. He puts his glass down and she smiles at him.

"Can I confess something to you?" he says, searching her face.

"Of course. Anything."

"I'm glad we're back. Here I mean. The life of adventure and intrigue. Glad you picked here."

"Oh," she looks down. "I wasn't sure if you remembered all that."

He shrugs. "I try not to think about it around you," he smiles nervously.

"Fitz…"

"It's just that this life suits you better somehow, y'know?" He picks up his wine glass and swirls the contents around, staring at it. "Besides, don't think I was ready to be a father just yet. Not that I wouldn't, eventually," he says, lifting a hand up before she can say anything. "But we were honestly a bit young, don't you think? Hadn't seen any of the world yet."

She lets out a heavy sigh. "You don't miss it? Being safe in your lab? A normal life? Family."

He shrugs. "Bits and pieces maybe. We've still got family here though. What about you? What made you pick here?"

She looks up at the ceiling and shakes her head. "I don't know. Something you said probably, got me thinking," she looks at him quickly. When their eyes meet, she looks back down at her hands. "Why did it have to be a choice between making a difference and having a normal life? Why _not_ both?" She fiddles with the edges of the blanket, pulling absently at the threads. "I suppose here we've already got a head start at making the world safer. We'll just have to work a little harder to keep each _other_ safe and then… I don't know, fit the other bits in somehow... At least give it a try..."

He reaches over and grabs her hand, tracing a small circle into her palm with his thumb. She smiles up at him, and he leans forward to kiss her softly on the lips. When they break apart, she sighs happily. "Besides," she says. "Since when have we done things normally?" With a twinkle in her eye, she reaches down and lifts her glass in the air. "Together we'll figure out our own version of normal, don't you think?"

He raises his glass to hers. "I'll definitely drink to that." With a clink, they both take a big sip, smiling over the rims of their glasses at each other.

Fitz sighs contentedly and leans back onto his elbows. He looks around the lab as she cuddles against him with her glass. "Pretty hard to imagine a kid running around the base, though, yeah?"

Simmons splutters into her wine. "One step at a time, Fitz!"

He grins at her slyly and raises an eyebrow. "Well _obviously_ we'd have to get a dog first. Test the waters. And then there's the very clear next step from there…"

"Oh, Fitz. Absolutely not. Don't even entertain the thought!"

"Think about this now. If we can look after a _monkey_ , a child is a piece of cake!"

"No, Fitz."

"And we could train it to be the nanny when we go off on missions. It's a brilliant idea!"

She reaches over and jabs her fingers into his side. He squirms and chuckles in response, spilling his wine. Placing the glasses down as he tries to dodge her fingers, he manages to grab hold of her wrists, pinning them to her sides.

She glares at him. "No dogs, no monkeys-"

"-Fine," he says rolling his eyes. "I guess we've got more than enough to worry about, saving the world, and all-"

"-At least not yet…" she grins cheekily.

He drops his mouth open, realizing she's half-agreed to his scheme. "Hold on - not yet as in… _eventually_?" She giggles as he catches on and his eyes light up. "But honestly think about what a monkey could-" she cuts him off by planting a kiss on his lips.

He blinks, distracted. "And what if-" she kisses him again.

He pulls away and opens his mouth to say something else, but she kisses him one last time, muffling the sound. She tangles her hands firmly in his curls, not letting him pull away this time.

"Well now I've lost my train of thought," he breathes, coming up for air.

"Finally," she laughs and pulls him down to the blanket with her.


End file.
